


into the blue

by Tasia (ruikosakuragi)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, And it's not The Little Mermaid, Angst and Romance, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Drama, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Father-Daughter Relationship, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, I guess you can say this is self-indulgent, It will earn its rating, Memory Loss, PWF, PWP, Romance, Royai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 17:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15224663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruikosakuragi/pseuds/Tasia
Summary: Mermaid AU. They meet for the first time above warm sands, but they could’ve sworn they know each other for much longer.





	1. mermaid

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It’s like 2am but I feel like writing something. It doesn’t help that I’ve had Skott – Mermaid play on repeat after browsing Method for Madness’s Riza mermaid drawing. Anyhow, pardon the grammatical error, no one beta’ed.

The dark haired man swirled the drink in his hand, staring into the dark brown liquid with an exhausted look. His long bangs curtained his equally dark orbs, shielding them from the ever watchful guards across the room, but just because he could hardly see them it didn't mean they couldn't make out the dissatisfaction in his eyes.

He leaned his back on the embroidered settee, exhaling ever so slowly, legs splayed out in a relaxed position. But everything about him was far from relaxed. His neck was stiff, his hands were numb, like hundreds of ants crawling all over them, and he could feel a lingering tightness in his chest and it was hard to breathe.

He squeezed his lids together, shutting out the world, and he tried to clear his mind by shaking his head rapidly. It wasn't helping. If anything, the motion sent his heart rate to a spike, adrenaline coursed throughout his body, and it got worse when he began to lose the feel on his feet, too.

The image of a golden-haired woman stayed on his mind, haunting him each night ever since he threw himself off to sea, to save himself from the burning ship. He had fallen in and out of consciousness then and  _somehow_  ended up on shore. He had no idea what had happened, but he knew that he was saved. He was grateful, in a way, but the woman's constant presence in his mind left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He sipped the whiskey in hand, hoping the liquor would deter his mind from the idea of her, but the strong taste had been diluted and washed down his throat unpleasantly. He choked on the spirits and on his own saliva, and for a split second he felt as though everything would only get worse.

And he was undoubtedly right as he saw a blurred vision of her features. Her lips, full and a pinkish color... and  _sultry_? He might not be able to imagine it as clearly as he wanted, but he could still taste  _it_  in his mouth. Of course his wandering mind further exacerbated his affliction, remembering that sun-basked speckles against fair complexion, like she had been spending an obsessive amount of time under the blistering ray. Then he could see her light brown eyes stare back at him softly, glittering full of warmth. He shivered just thinking about it.

He had been entranced by everything about the woman, shackled against his will as she administered that wonderful kiss on him. And in a wicked, twisted kind of way, he yearned to feel more of her. This led to his eventual search, dispatching his best soldiers through the ends of Amestris, sending the most brilliant scouts he could find. Except they were everything but successful.

_"Elizabeth."_

Roy blinked. The sudden intrusion jolted him out of his reverie. He looked to the guard standing in front of him, seeing a concerned look about him.

The hesitant guard inquired carefully, "...Your Majesty?"

Roy simply interrupted in a rather hasty tone, "Did you say something?"

The man in chain armor straightened his spine, clicking his feet together. "No, Your Majesty..."

"Yes, you did."

The man remained silent.

The prince of Amestris propped his body against the back of the chair, furrowing his brows at the anxious man. Roy eventually realized he must have been scaring the guard  _shitless_  with his insistence, so he mouthed his apology, commanding him to prepare the hot springs located beneath the castle.

* * *

 

He dipped one foot into the bubbling water to get a taste of the temperature. The other followed, and he immediately found his torso submerged in the water, relaxing his tense muscles throughout his worn out body. He took a deep breath, slicking his long bangs back and away from his eyes, and he couldn't help enjoy the chance at reprieve.

An idea sparked, and without any deliberation nor warning he dove underwater.

The boiling water stung his skin momentarily and he hissed from the sensation. But once his body adjusted to the sizzling temperature, he reluctantly opened his eyes, witnessing an incredible rendition of Atlantis.

His vision was lost in a forest of giant kelps, his mind entirely entranced by a tangle of seaweed dancing in a wavy motion as it sprouted silver-striped marine creatures from in between. The small, slim bodied fish glowed in the murky water, and as they swam away their fins gleamed in the dark, trailing a source of light toward the further end of the spring.

He then saw a large fish approach him, swimming in a zigzag pattern to avoid tentacles of jellyfish that seemed to grab at it. The  _fish_  seemed large, at least from his distance, with long flipper and pale dermis covering the body. As it got closer, he noticed yellow. He gasped as well as he could gasp underwater when his raven eyes materialized the color into long, yellow strands, followed by the appearance of human face and human arms only a moment after.

Hazel eyes, pink lips, fair skin came into view, and his heart felt like it stopped. The bottom half of her body was covered in bright blue scale up to her breasts. She had no feet, instead it was a smooth flipper, elongated and curled at the end where it resembled a fin. He studied the creature's familiar face, and as he narrowed his vision he gaped in disbelief.

The aquatic woman extended her hand in a swift motion, fingers reaching out to him as she hurriedly swam to close the gap between them. She had a strange expression from about her face, but he was too shocked from seeing  _her_  again he barely registered what the worried lines across her features could mean. The half human half fish wonder finally closed their distance, and Roy could clearly see the blatant distress etched on her face. He became anxious as he watched, reflexively extending his hand to reach her.

They were only a touch of fingertips away, but without a single warning, a malicious whirlwind abruptly pulled her away from him, sucking her whole body into the darkness.

"Roooy!" He could hear the fear and frenzy in her voice as she called out his name.

He panicked and unconsciously opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to shout for her, but air escaped his lungs. He jerked his head to the surface, gasping for a quick breath before sinking himself in the spring once more. He opened his eyes, praying and hoping he wasn't too late, but the woman was gone, the kelp forest had disappeared, and there was nothing else underwater beside himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The first 3 chapters had undergone some revision since published, mostly for grammar/sentence structure. Nothing in the story has changed.


	2. the gallows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Changing the rating to E, because smut in future chapters ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He woke up, dark eyes opening so wide they looked like they were bulging out of his sockets.

_That was a disturbing dream..._

He sat up, panting, and nervous sweat rolled down his face. He hair was thoroughly soaked as though he really did plunge into the depth of this dreamed up oceanic forest. The man placed a hand over his heaving chest, feeling like he had just run a mile, and he inhaled deeply in to calm his heaving body.

Satin sheet slipped down from his knee as he pulled one leg into a hug, and in an instant his mind wrestled between reality and fantasy as his hand found silky pillow and plush mattress. He looked around the room and made out the outline of his four-poster wooden bed, the transparent ivory valances, and a large, framed portrait of himself that was hung up recently. He was at home, in his bedroom, and he sighed in relief as he took comfort in the fact.

"Roy, are you feeling alright?" a raspy, feminine voice asked.

The woman placed a hand on his arm gently, caressing his skin with her index finger, feeling the swell of his veins. He turned around to face the woman lying down next to him. She had long, wavy brown hair, heavy lidded eyes, and a pretty face. She's not  _her._

She sat up, stroking the hair on the nape of his neck. He caught a whiff of her scent, smelling a garden of rose, which was perhaps the furthest thing away from that aromatic sea air. But if he could choose, he would rather wake up to that distinctive hint of shore.

The brunette nuzzled her lips into the crook of his neck, and he shuddered as he felt her hot breath on him.

She patted the pillow. "Darling, come back to bed. Please?"

But he was quiet, musing to himself, unmoving from his position.

She got on her knees and crawled on top of his body, gently stroking the red, angry mark on his abdomen. She knew how his recent battle scar was a sensitive spot, barely healed from the injury he received when he jumped off the fiery ship. But she also knew that when she caressed it, his body would respond obligingly. She brushed her lips on his chin, just lightly enough until it made the hairs on his arms rise. Her finger gingerly trailed over his jawline, placing soft kisses along the way, and she could feel his body stiffen.

He took a quick glance at the woman and cupped her cheek softly, ghosting a kiss on her mouth. He heard a seductive whimper escape her lips, and he flipped her over so that he was on top of her. She squealed from excitement as he surprised with a sudden change of position.

"Make love to me, darling?" she pleaded with a playful lilt, and her request sent the blood rushing to his groin.

He didn't say anything, but he complied, giving her a small smile as he placed mild kisses on her neck and down to her breasts.

* * *

**The next morning…**

"Your Majesty, your horse is ready."

The stoic soldier handed the reins to Roy, backing away slowly as Roy looped his foot on the stirrup and hoisted his body over the horse.

The prince had a wide smile on his face, ready to ride with an eagerness to see progress made to the harbor. But he halted his ride when he heard footsteps coming from behind him.

"Are you not going to kiss your fiancée goodbye?" She smiled sweetly, putting a hand on his leg. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile, and he stooped down to close the distance between them as she tiptoed to kiss him. "Have a safe travel, okay?"

He merely nodded before pulling both his legs back, squeezing the reins and kicking the horse lightly with his heels, prompting it to buck and gallop forward.

The market square was busy, full of idle chatters of women and playing children while the hardworking men worked on rebuilding the shipyard.

The political unrest in the Kingdom of Amestris had been sparked by the sudden death of their king. The dock had been attacked while the armada sailed to sea to defend the seafront against the warships sent by the king's cousin who intended to seize the throne. Roy had sailed with his navy, meticulous battle strategy in place, and his ship went head to head with Bradley's. In a last-minute effort to achieve victory, Roy had commanded his fearful marines to flee, clutching to his own life as he stayed to commandeer the warship. The brave commander had emerged victorious, drowning Bradley in his own vessel, albeit endangering himself in the process. And yet he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Now that everything had settled down, Roy spent a copious amount of time with the dock rebuilding, fortifying it to its once glorious state. He needed to ensure they would no longer suffer serious setbacks from future insurgence, working relentlessly on the reconstruction project and the reinforcement of the kingdom's security. However, once the crisis was averted, the King's counsel rained downed Amestris's law on the prince before he could inherit the sovereignty. The ancient constitution stated that he must choose a wife approved by court officials to be legitimized as a successor.

He thought of Vanessa. She had known him since they were young,  _and_  she came from a lineage of dukes and duchesses, seemingly the perfect choice in the eyes of greying old men seated in the King's round table. But then he thought about last night and how the lips he kissed in his dream had felt wonderful, a puzzle piece fitted to complete his. It was the golden-haired woman's lips. A part of him was certain she had been the one who saved him that fateful night.

There was a commotion from the market, a man yelling from the crowd, and his rumination shattered in an instant.

"Men, the execution is about to begin!"

The workers at the shipyard rushed to the crowded market, running past Roy and his soldiers. This prompted Roy to gallop toward the mob, taking an interest in the local jurisdiction and how they governed their affairs. He looked curiously, pulling the reins on his horse as he approached the congregation in the center of the marketplace, and he stopped to watch the execution from afar.

Burlap sack covered the prisoner's head, hands cuffed behind his back, and an oversized robe was worn over his body. He was unlike any prisoners Roy had known, most of whom tried to escape by attempting to wriggle free or by screaming loudly and begging for mercy. Roy could see that the man on stage was standing still, body so calm without a single twist and squirm.

The hangman lifted the sack from the convict, and Roy had expected to see a man of frail stature, but he instead observed long, flaxen hair underneath belonging to a woman, body slumped in defeat and merely propped up by the executioner's grip.

Roy had wondered what she had done to deserve such judgment, but as he observed more carefully, he realized her face was one of familiarity. Her light brown, sunken eyes displayed fear, but in his vision they had been scintillating in the darkness. Her cheeks were dirty from soot and grime, but beneath it all he could see a fair and beautiful complexion. Her lips were chapped and cracked, like she hadn't been fed even a drop of water, dried blood marring the plumpness of her lips and smearing a dark purple color over what should have been a bright, healthy pink. His heart skipped a beat as his frantic mind recognized those features.

He had met her last night in his dream, recalling his flooding memory of frightened face and shiny blue fin that covered her legs. But what he saw was a fearful woman awaiting her death, without fins and above water. The prince paused, mouth gaping unattractively, and in the rare moment in his life he was scrambling for ideas, a plan to free this stranger.

Her hangman looped a thick, braided rope over her neck, tightening it roughly as the scribe recited her final confession, "She who had committed crime against the laws of the Kingdom of Amestris, my Lords have decreed and given sentence that she shall be condemned from life to death by rope."

He prodded his muddled brain, and yet the best plan he had was to yell from the distance.

"Stop! Stop the execution!"

The executioner continued. The crowd's obnoxious chant and loud cheering drowned his voice from reaching the stage.

"I COMMAND YOU TO STOP!" His voice boomed, alarming the onlookers in front of him.

The townspeople turned to look, surprised expression morphed into enthusiasm as they recognized the man behind the voice. They cleared way for him in an instant, creating a pathway wide enough for his horse to cross. He rode toward the stage in haste, his riding guards falling into step behind him, and he jumped off his horse as he approached the gallows.

The woman looked at him with shock, jaw hanging loose, body trembling with apprehension. Frightful tears formed in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Roy studied her heart wrenching expression and smiled softly at her, hoping the gesture would provide a semblance of comfort. She mouthed something to Roy, and while he waited for that unmistakable timbre her lips produced no sound. He realized she must have been too startled from her current predicament, and he decided that rest and bath were what she needed. He carefully placed his hands on her waist, signaling to her to place her hands on his shoulders. She reluctantly placed them there, and he hastily hoisted her weak body onto his horse's saddle before joining her momentarily, leaving the observers to murmur gossip as he and his men returned to the castle.


	3. mute

They passed through the wooden drawbridge above inky moat, and Riza stared in awe as the towering castle materialized from the backdrop. It was magnificent in size, a symbol of riches and power, though her father would tell her that it was built from political bloodshed and gore and violence. Weather-beaten stones constructed the circular keeps and towers, extending its glory beyond the clouds, sheltering its nobilities within the inner walls.

The clopping of the horse's hooves reverberated as they approached the black iron portcullis, and soldiers in chain armor guarding either side of the entrance raised the gate to allow them through. They rode through a rough, winding path upward a hill, passing the horse's stable and training grounds until they reached one of the keeps situated at the highest elevation.

Roy had been quiet through the ride, deciding to keep to himself save for some instructions he provided to his dutiful guards, and it made Riza wonder what prompted his rescue of her. The raven haired man slid off his horse with ease before placing both hands gently on Riza's waist as he helped her down from the saddle. He smiled genuinely at her, but behind the congeniality she could see concern. Nevertheless, his gait was full of confidence and his presence exuded charisma as he nodded a silent command to the men guarding the door. The bronze metal gate opened inward, revealing a red bricked courtyard with lush rose garden surrounding both sides, defining a passage to an off-white stony archway, and Riza gaped at the beauty around her as she trailed a few steps behind Roy. But as she limped onward, she registered the persistent gaze of the observing soldiers, and it enveloped her in a wave of discomfort.

As they arrived at the archway, a short stature older woman with greying hair approached Roy and whispered something in his ear, shifting her gaze between the man and the blonde woman behind him. The old woman took an earmark of her appearance, expression full of questions. She dressed like elegantly yet humbly, similar to the chamber maid they had passed by earlier, with dark gold long dress, sleeves cut short just below the shoulders and beautiful lacework adorning her bust. Her hair was tied up in a rigid ponytail, and Riza could see how it pulled tightly at her hairline.

Roy smiled at the woman, soft expression on his face as he talked, and the old lady gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. She patted his arm up and down the length, providing him with a sense of comfort like everything will be tended to, and he nodded at her with gratitude. Her gestures seemed far too friendly for her to be someone as lowly as a maid, but she chucked it to the prince's friendliness to his subjects.

Roy inched closer to Riza with kindness lacing his features, and she noticed how his slicked black hair was unruffling itself, bangs drooping over his piercing eyes. She smiled weakly at him, anxious about what lay ahead for her, and she could see how his lips mimicked hers into an upward curve as he introduced the woman standing behind him, "You must be exhausted. This is my late mother's maid, Pinako. She will take personal charge of your care."

The small woman approached Riza, tilting her head up at her as she got closer, and she took her hand with care, "Come, child. We will give you a bath and change you into something more appropriate. It's unspeakable what they did to you."

Riza glanced at Roy nervously, as though asking for permission to leave, and he nodded with approval, "I will visit you in your room when you are cleaned up."

 

* * *

 

She sat in the middle of the bathtub, surrounded by rose petals and scented candles, but she couldn't relax as the memory of her captivity replayed in her mind. Her spine arched forward as she hugged her folded knees under hot, steamy water, and she carefully examined the large, unfamiliar chamber.

Everything in the room was extravagant: brown leather seats encircling an intricately carved wooden table, beautifully sewn drapes adorned the curved balcony opening, and raised Roman columns pillared the room in each corner. Riza shifted her eyes to the bed, taking in the opulent style and acknowledging how it complemented the rest of the room. The yellow-colored brass frame perched atop marble flooring, mattress fitting for a king was neatly wrapped in olive green satin sheet. The wooden canopy above the headboard was grand with dark valances boosting a romantic ambiance against the smooth, beige stone walls. Silky ivory drapes covered each side of the bed, furnishing a luxurious atmosphere in the dimly lit room.

Even with the comfort of her own chamber Riza found it hard to loosen her tensed muscle. She gritted her teeth, biting her lower lip every so often as she pondered her current circumstance. She splashed her face with water, attempting to find a semblance of relief, but she was still deprived of all her senses. She dipped her head underwater, opening her eyes as she would normally do and took a deep breath, but water entered her nose and into her lungs, choking her throat as the burning sensation of the water engulfed her chest. In the fit of it all she jerked her head to the surface and gasped loudly, chastising herself for forgetting that she was not in her aquatic shell, which meant she could no longer breathe underwater.

Suddenly fear enveloped her. She didn't know why she was taken here nor why he had treated her so nicely. She had so many questions in her head that were unanswered, and it left her with feeling of trepidation. She stood up abruptly, eager to leave the room to obtain some clues, accidentally splashing water around the tub as her naked body glistened in the candlelight. She carefully examined her body. The dried blood had washed off, but the red welts from lacerations she received during her confinement remained visible. The worst one was at her neck, deep and throbbing, and she carefully touched the cut only to wince at the sudden pain shooting up her spine. She slowly stepped out of the bath tub, avoiding the puddle of water on the floor, and wrapped herself in the towel prepared by her bedside.

She heard incoming footsteps in the distance, and she looked around for the silk robe that had been given to her by Pinako. When she couldn't find it, she covered herself as best she could with the thin white towel and crouched next to the bed to conceal her state of undress as the door opened. Her heart thudded as she heard a click on the door, crimson flooding her cheeks when she realized how bare she was to receive a visitor.

The dark-haired prince entered, casually glancing around for the blonde woman. He closed the door behind him, gingerly walking into the room and standing in the center, only to notice the wet ground next to his boots a second later. "Hello... Are you in here?"

Riza peeked her head slowly from behind the bed, mouthing an answer, but she realized no sound escaped her lips. She tried speaking one more time, expelling air from her belly and struggling to get some words out, but it was a useless attempt as she produced no sound.

She clutched at her throat, body shivering from fear as she tumbled down onto the floor with a loud thud. More questions crowded her perplexed mind, and she became even more frustrated when she realized what had happened to her voice.

Roy jerked his head towards the plopping sound of flesh against floor, and he walked around the bed and saw a glimpse of her bare body.

She stared at him dumbfounded, surprise couldn't begin to describe her expression. Her jaw hung low, arms propped by her torso and legs folded on either side.

Roy merely stared back, mouth gaping as he lingered his astonished gaze on her face. He met her light brown eyes, becoming entranced by its almost-amber color. Then he took note of her lips and how it was no longer a bruised purple color from earlier, noticing water droplets on the plumpness. He ventured his eyes to her drenched flaxen hair which shielded her collar bones and parts of her chest, wetness dripping from the ends and trickling down her torso. His sight was then dragged downward, outlining the soft curves on her body and admiring the shape of her breasts and the rich shade of brown puckered nipples. There was a display of vulnerability about her, and he couldn't take his eyes off as he imagined further exploration of her body.

For a brief moment he saw her jerk backwards, seeing swift movement of both arms covering her bare chest. Her pale cheeks turned a shade of red, eyebrows furrowed, and she tried to mouth something to Roy, as if chastising him for his behavior. She splayed her leg, blanketing the white towel over her privates, unintentionally kicking him roughly on his boots and he was jolted from his thoughts.

He was mortified when he realized that he had been staring at her naked body, feeling a sudden heat creep up his face. He abruptly turned around, facing his back to her. He quickly stammered an apology, awkwardness in the timbre of his voice, "I'm so sorry… It wasn't my intention to stare..."

He saw a neatly folded bath robe atop a chest and grabbed it, handing it over to her over his shoulder. He could hear her breathing as she drew closer to him, listening to the sound of wet footsteps on the floor treading slowly and cautiously. He felt her tug at the piece of cloth.

Roy sighed heavily as he shut his lids, chest pounding as loudly as ever, and he could feel drops of sweat form on his hairline from the nervousness. He berated himself silently at the turn of event as he patiently waited for her to speak. When he didn't hear her voice, he opened his eyes one at a time, forming a questioning look across his features. He wanted to face her, to plead for forgiveness for his improper conduct, but he was afraid of her inaction and what it could mean. His plight was momentarily resolved as he felt a poke on his shoulder, a finger indicating him to turn around.

He looked at her body covered underneath the robe, and he gulped thickly, thinking how she didn't look any less desirable as the silk cloth draped down to her mid thighs. He studied her expression and body language as she stood still, and he knew he had to apologize a second time. He mustered his most genuine tone, solemn look across his features, and he hoped that she would respond amicably, "Forgive me, please. I'm sorry if I have offended you, but—"

She interrupted, putting her index finger on his lips without hesitance, and he became silent in an instant. He examined her movements as she made a repeated gesture with her hand, pointing to her throat and shaking her head with agitation. She extended her hands toward her legs, over and over again, pointing to her throat and then to her mouth while shaking her head. She looked like she was about to cry, eyes glistening with frustration before finally gazing down toward the floor in defeat.

He was entirely lost by her gesture, but it didn't stop him from taking her hand tenderly, thumb caressing her palm in a soft, circular motion. He asked her with a doubtful tone, "Are you saying that you… can't speak?"

She nodded eagerly, confirming his conjecture as she landed him a persistent gaze.

He stared at her with a parted mouth, muttering under his breath, "You're... mute."


	4. magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay! I finally finished plotting this story, so it should be faster to publish going forward (unless something happens). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Pinako Rockbell’s gait was hurried and with purpose. In her younger years, she would have arrived at her destination eons ago, but her steps were now heavy and sluggish, and it felt as though she was plowing through mud. In her hand was a leather-bound tome, dusty and yellowing from age, and she clutched it under her arm protectively. She approached a large, wooden arch door with two guards stationed on both sides, and they immediately recognized her identity. She nodded to the guards and they acknowledged her attendance, opening the door widely so that she may enter the study.

“Ah Pinako, please come in.”

The chambermaid strolled in, her steps were dragged now that she had arrived, feeling no need to rush. She felt the throbbing ache on her knees as her adrenaline slowly defused, and she steadily approached the carved wooden desk, placing the tome down with care.

“I take it you brought what I asked.”

Pinako nodded curtly.

The woman in front of her dragged the heavy tome toward herself, flipping through the pages and skimming through the words rather quickly. When she finally arrived at the desired page, Pinako could see how her index finger trailed each word thoroughly, mouthing the phrases with her mouth. She tapped her finger at the center of the page twice when she found the information she was looking for, and Pinako could see her eyes gleam with excitement.

The old maid watched the woman with interest, occasionally glancing at the large book and then back at her form. Queen Regent Chris Mustang was a stocky woman with broad shoulders. Her long, jet-black hair was neatly tucked in a half-bun, and heavy makeup was expertly applied to hide her aging complexion, but it was discernible that she had been a beautiful woman in her youth.

“Here it is. Oceanic beast. Their lower body is depicted with two fish tails and they are capable of strong magical aspects,” the Queen Regent read aloud the sentence with great concentration.

“Your majesty, but it is only folklore. There is no evidence that they exist,” Pinako explained with doubt lacing her tone. In her seventy years of being alive, she had never seen such creatures, and it would take more than a sentence from a hundred-year old history book to convince her.

“Remind me again. What was her sentence?”

“She had been sentenced to death for performing sorcery,” Pinako stated matter-of-factly.

“Precisely.”

“But she doesn’t look like she could perform anything… she looks so frail, so confused and innocent.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, Pinako,” she warned.

Pinako nodded in understanding.

“Pinako…” the woman looked up from the tome, biting her bottom lip as she mulled over something concerning in her head. “Do you think… she looks familiar?”

Pinako contemplated her question, jogging her faded memory, “Yes, she looks familiar. Her eyes and the color of her hair are very similar to hers. Would you agree, Your Majesty?”

Chris Mustang stood up from her chair, her back was hunched over the large desk, and she resumed her train of thoughts, “When will the Chancellor return from his trip?”

“Chancellor Grumman will return tomorrow.”

The Queen Regent sashayed to the large, glass window, looking out into the distance, her wide back facing Pinako. “Then I shall speak to him upon his return. I am certain he will recognize her.”

“Very well, Your Majesty. Will you be needing anything else?”

“No, that will be all, Pinako. Thank you.”

Pinako nodded once, curtsied, and she exited the room to resume her daily duties. Her mind traveled to the young woman in the late queen’s chamber, and she concluded that the woman had been her, the one Grumman had been searching for in the last seventeen years. She had so many questions that needed answers, but her lowly rank within the castle prevented her from asking such questions. She, however, trusted that the Queen Regent would figure everything out. She always had. And knowing this fact put Pinako’s mind at ease.

 

* * *

 

They rode through the expansive, green landscape, and she tightened her grip on his waist. The towering, dark green trees that outlined the forest had ended, and she could now see how the horizon blended into the greyish white clouds. The view was breathtaking, natural, untouched.

The horse bucked as he pulled the rein, and he unsaddled himself before helping her get down from the horse. He offered her his hand, and she reluctantly took it, and they commenced their aimless stroll through the serene countryside.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He spoke with such genuinity as he squeezed her hand, and it prompted her to look up at him. She studied his profile, fixating on his slicked raven hair as it became unruffled by the cool breeze and admiring his deep, dark irises that seemed to provide much insight into the man. His body was toned and well-muscled, albeit of average height, and yet he seemed to be handsome not only physically but also inwardly from the way he carried himself. He couldn’t be much older than her, she concluded, but he exuded so much confidence in his speech that he seemed to be rather experienced in performing his kingly duties.

He halted abruptly and looked into her eyes, light brown orbs sparkling brightly under the sun, and he could have sworn he had been entranced. He opened his mouth, forming words at the tip of his tongue, and yet he struggled to speak. He finally managed to utter a phrase, a string of apologies, for his behavior in the chamber and Riza couldn’t help but nod at his sincerity. She had forgiven him hours ago, but she supposed he felt as though the guilt remained considering how she hadn’t said one word about forgiving him.

She wished she could speak, truly, but all she could do for now was nod or shake her head. She had the answers he seeked along with some questions of her own, and she had been certain that he had answers to what she was looking for. She had been frustrated when she realized that her speech had been taken away from her, and she knew precisely who to blame. The issue at hand, however, was not placed on finding the person who had stolen it from her but on how to retrieve it. She had not one clue on how to restore her voice, nor had any inkling on where to begin.

She jogged her memory through the fated night, the night she rescued Roy from his ship, the night she found out about her birth. She had been consumed with rage then, at her father and at herself, and she chastised herself why she hadn’t questioned her existence much earlier. This led to her spontaneous escape from the underwater civilization and into the strange land, this human-governed society, and she knew she should have planned her agenda with more care. Riza Hawkeye knew there would be obstacles entering the kingdom, her father had warned her throughout her life, but she also had been determined to seek the truth and so such difficulties had been tucked away in the back of her mind.

She examined his features yet again, and somewhere in the recesses of her brain she vaguely recalled familiarity. She wasn’t sure how it eluded her when she first saw him, but she was sure now that he had played a part in her life somehow. The connection, however, had been fuzzy and without her speech to ask all of her questions, she had no idea how to even broach the subject.

“Do you want to take a break?” he inquired with a soft smile, pausing their steps under a large, oak tree.

Riza nodded in appreciation as she gathered her dress and plopped herself down on the ground inelegantly. Her body was still recovering, weak from the previous day’s event, and one night of rest hadn’t been enough to bring her stamina to complete recovery. He patted the soil next to her and when satisfied, he sat inches away. His gaze had never left her as he lowered himself to the ground, trailing her every move, and she knew that he had many questions of his own.

“Where are you from?” he inquired.

She turned around to face him, mouth opened reflexively, but she realized her muteness and proceeded to make gestures with her hands instead. She lifted one arm, drawing peaks and valleys with her arm in a wave-like motion, and she continued to provide hints of oceans by making swimming strokes.

“Swim…?” he guessed.

She nodded in affirmation, but added a plunging motion as she repeated the swimming strokes.

“Uh… ocean?”

She nodded again, and he could see a glint of confirmation from the way it brightened.

“So you came from the ocean?”

She nodded again, eagerly this time.

“I don’t understand… You have two arms and two legs, and you look entirely human. How is it that you came from the ocean?”

She looked around, fumbling for ideas in her head on how to explain her answer with only her body as language, and she became frustrated when she didn’t know how to. She tipped her head forward to him as though she was about to mouth something, but then she remembered yet again that she had lost her ability to speak, and she began to scratch her head wildly from the frustration.

Roy had noticed her irritated expression, and he gently grabbed her wrists to stop her from clawing her scalp, smiling softly at her as he shushed her to calm down. He laughed endearingly as she resisted his grip to continue scratching at her head, and she couldn’t help but laugh in return, even when she couldn’t emit an ounce of sound. She felt his gentle grip on her and how it lingered there, and she couldn’t help but bury her head into his chest. He was taken aback by her gesture, surprised by how comfortable she had been with him in the short period of time they had known each other, but he proceeded to wrap his arm around her small frame and embraced her protectively.

Not moments later, something clicked in his head, and he grabbed her shoulder with care and pushed her away from him so that he could see her face.

“Are you well-versed in the alphabet system?” he asked with a hopeful lilt.

She nodded enthusiastically as she understood what he was asking her to do. She rose from the ground, placing a hand on her knee for support, and she took quick glances to look for a stick. She found a short branch, thick enough to carve words onto the slightly wet soil, and she started to write.

He pronounced each letter as she wrote it down, “R-I-Z-A. Riza? Is that your name?”

She smiled at him as she nodded. She watched him mutter her name numerously, as if repeating the word would drill it into his memory. He said it again and again, and the way it flowed out of his mouth sounded like a peaceful chant, hypnotizing her into a lull.

“Riza. Riza. That is a beautiful name.” He smiled at her softly.

She broke away from his spell by shaking her head, carving the next word that would hopefully answer the question he had asked earlier and tracing each letter as large as possible so that it was legible.

“W-A-T-E-R…Water?”

She nodded with enthusiasm.

“Are you thirsty?” he questioned with a confused tone.

She shook her head, and she made another swimming motion with her arms. His gaze was downcast as he paused to think, and he could see her in his periphery as frustration started to overcome her again.

“You want me to take you to… water?” He guessed one more time, hoping that he had understood her correctly. When she nodded and clapped her hand, Roy had understood then that she had asked to be taken to a body of water.

“It may not be a good idea to take you back to the port with the townspeople around. However, I could take you to the hot spring. Will that be alright?”

She smiled in approval at him and trotted to the horse. She placed her hand on his open palm and propped herself up onto the horse. He saddled the horse not moments after, this time sitting behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lightly pulling her back against his torso so that he could gather the rein in his hands. She felt her heart skip a beat at the intimacy of their position, and she relaxed herself as she enjoyed the ride to the castle hot spring.

  
Riza felt as though she could jump from joy as she stared at the small, steaming body of water. She quickly undressed, removing the sash around her waist and tossing it onto the ground next to her. She gestured to Roy for help, pointing to the buttons that lined the spine of her dress and she made a motion for him to unlatch them one by one.

His fingers slightly shook as he unclasped the top button, and he could feel his chest tighten the further down he slid his fingers through the fabric. His stomach fluttered in wonderful ways, and he swallowed thickly as he undid her mid-section, revealing a sliver of her bare skin. He knew he shouldn’t feel excited that she was undressing in front of him, but he couldn’t help himself. After all, she was a beautiful woman with an attractive figure.

As his fingers wrapped around the last button, the back of her dress unravelled itself, and he couldn’t help but notice a large tattoo inked on her back. He examined the intricate symbols, ghosting his fingers over the circular markings, and she reflexively jolted from the sensation of his touch.

“Sorry,” he apologized, quickly withdrawing his hand from her back.

Riza laced her fingers around the top part of her gown, shoving the heavy golden-trimmed garment down and shamelessly revealing her bare upper back to him. As the dress cinched around her waist, she pushed it down further so that she could untangle herself from the fabric. He watched in awe yet again, breath held as he admired her delicate frame. She was only clad in her underwear, the only piece of cloth covering her body, and he could feel a strange, rising sensation in his groin.

She clamped onto the waistband of her underwear, pulling it down swiftly, and his eyes widened in shock as she bared the rest of her skin to him. He took a step backward, placing both hands over his eyes to give her a semblance of decency, and he heard quick, light steps and a splash as she jumped into the water.

He opened his eyes, looking for a sign of the young woman in the hot spring, and he started panicking when he didn’t see a hint of life in the sinuous water. He felt the rapid beating of his heart and his stomach churned with fear. Certain parts of the natural spring had enough depth to sink a person, and he regretted that he hadn’t warned her about it.

He shouted for her, desperation infused in his tone, “Riza! RIZA!”

Silence.

He knew he had to jump in to save her.

He quickly disrobed his surcoat, dropping it carelessly onto the graveled floor, and he undressed as many article of clothing as he could so that it wouldn’t drag him down when he jumped into the deep mineral water. He unbuckled his belt and removed his pants so that he was left in only white stockings and silk undershirt. Without hesitation he jumped into the water to look for the woman he had held onto just moments ago.

As he dipped his head in the spring, he felt a tug on his foot from behind, and he turned around as quickly as one could underwater. He opened his eyes, and instantly he could feel the heat of the thermal water pierce the back of his skull. He dragged himself up to the surface, gasping for breath, and he slicked his hair back so that his bangs uncovered his eyes. He saw bubbles form in the water in front of him, and Riza momentarily popped her head up from under, grinning and splashing his face playfully.

“Riza! Where were you? I thought you had drowned!” he interrogated her, agitation in the intonation of his voice.

Her expression turned into a frown as she discerned his tone, and she quickly mouthed an apology. He grabbed her shoulders, not unkindly, and he looked into her eyes as he spoke with a firm tone, “Do not scare me like that ever again!”

She looked apologetic as she gazed into his dark eyes, and he slowly loosened his grip on her shoulders, feeling a tinge of remorse at his discomposure. Roy studied her features, her nose, eyes, and lips, and he became mesmerized in an instant. She stared at him innocently, mouth slightly agape, and something about it was inviting.

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to do what he was about to do, but he gently placed his thumb and index finger onto her chin and brought her face closer to his, unable to contain the attraction. He closed his eyes and felt the tip of their noses touch, and he could feel her hot breath on his lips. Her body quivered slightly with surprise, and yet something about their position was enchanting her to follow his motion. Roy could no longer hold his fervor as he swiftly closed the gap between their skin, uniting their lips like two puzzle pieces fitting in perfectly.

She returned his kiss without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck and basking in the heat of their passions. He reveled in the softness of her plump lips, coating them hungrily with his mouth, and he could feel the same eagerness from her as she grunted and bit his bottom lip roughly. They continued their ministration, and he could have sworn he had tasted blood as the intensity of their kiss increased with each shallow breath. He weaved his fingers in her long, golden hair, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, exploring the sweet taste of her mouth. The image of his fiancee flashed in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it as Riza cupped his cheek and trailed her kisses down along his jawline. He knew he should feel guilty; his behavior had been inappropriate and unwarranted, and he had been especially unfair to Vanessa. He should stop, he knew, but in all honesty he didn’t want to stop. He mulled over his options and whether or not he should keep this affair to himself. After all, no one had been there to witness their indulgence. He attempted to justify his action to fate, and mentally cursed--or rather worshipped-- the deity who had sent this woman to him.

Roy was so lost in the pleasure of their kiss that he didn’t realize what had happened to Riza when she jumped into the water. Bright blue scales had adorned her chest down to her lower body, and curled tails had kept her afloat as she continued to place her soft lips along his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please let me know what you think by reviewing/commenting :)


	5. the brothers

Page 611  
Therianthropy, non-human animals... Humans metamorphosing into animals… Aquatic creatures...  
...Selkies are capable of magic… Prohibition of the practice of sorcery, year 1087, decree signed by William Stoughton in The Court of Amestris…

 

_He slid his hand through her inked back, feeling the intricate lines of cursive script and circular diagram on his fingertips, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was too occupied in her ministration of his neck, ghosting kisses down from his jawline, down to his Adam’s apple, and toward his collar bone. In his trance, he ventured his hand further down her back until he reached just below the waistline, and he opened his eyes in an instant at the touch of something placoid. It was similar to fish scales to the touch, but smoother and much more slippery. It was lubriciously tempting._

_He reflexively grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her away, though not ungently, and his eyes widened in horror as he observed the shimmering, azure scales adorning her chest. He directed his gaze lower and discovered more of it, and his breath hitched at the sight. The scales began at the curves of her breasts, cladding the front portion of her torso and slithering around her waist. From there, it extended to the rest of her lower back, and while Roy couldn’t see anything below the surface of the water, he could imagine that the rest of her body were wrapped in the same blue dermis._

_“Riza… what… what are you?!”_

_She stared at his shocked expression, becoming anxious at his reaction more than anything, and Roy could see that she was scrambling for an answer, arms flailing around in front of her face._

 

Page 615  
Van Hohenheim, Execution: Death by hanging for practice of sorcery, year 1249  
Mehitilt, Execution: Death by hanging for practice of sorcery…

 

_He instinctively swam to the edge of the springs and propped himself up, leaving the water in as quick as two seconds, and he scooted backward on all four like a spider, crawling so fast it looked as though he was cornered by a vicious hound ready to devour him. He gaped at her unattractively, pointing his index finger rudely in her face. He attempted to calm down, taking deep breaths to cease his heaving body, and yet he found it almost impossible to control his palpitating heart._

_Riza followed suit, swimming to the edge of the water and pulled herself out. Roy could see the bright, blue scale promptly turned into porcelain skin, human skin, and immediately the curled silvery fins at the lower end of her body magically transformed into two shapely legs. He sat in silence, too taken aback to utter a word, and he could see Riza quickly nabbed the garb on the ground and covered her naked body. She approached him carefully, hands in front of her hovering in a surrender fashion, and she knelt on one knee. She extended her hand to cup his cheek, caressing it tenderly, and she could feel the slight tremble from his hanging jaw. She smiled softly and gingerly leaned in to place a kiss on his forehead. And suddenly his fear dissipated, the dreadful substance exited his pores, disappearing in a poof of smoke, like magic. His nerves steadied slowly but surely, and he sighed in relief as he finally gained control of his momentarily distraught mind._

_He gazed into her hazel eyes and saw no resentment nor displeasure, and he became ashamed of his frantic behavior. He laced his fingers in her wet hair, whispering his apology earnestly, “I’m sorry, Riza… You caught me by surprise. That’s all.”_

_She nodded in understanding._

_“Was that… magic?”_

_She paused for a moment to think, but she ultimately shook her head. She pointed to her larynx, mouthing phrases that were indiscernible to Roy, and she proceeded to make a gesture similar to fingers holding a pen, bending her wrist and making circular waving motions like she was casting a spell._

_He pondered over her hand signals, speaking aloud his comprehension of them, “You’re saying that… someone performed magic on you… and stole your voice?”_

_She nodded firmly, clapping her hand enthusiastically._

 

Page 616  
Rhinemile, Execution: Death by the guillotine for practice of sorcery, year 1149… Meiyo, Execution: Death… Death by the guillotine for practice of sorcery, year 1150… practice of sorcery…

 

He was hungry for destruction. The pooling heat in the pit of his stomach was engulfing the rest of his body, fuming his body with anger. He wanted to punch a wall.

“Everyone is fucking _dead_!”

He couldn’t contain his rage and slammed the hardcover tome violently, closing the heavy book and unhinging the pages from its spine. A few pages scattered, drifting aimlessly in the air and descending slowly to the ground with the downward pull of gravity, specks of dust permeating the air. He hunched his back over the large table, bare of everything else but, and he pressed his fingers to his temple in an attempt to ease his throbbing headache.

The young woman who witnessed his anger knelt on the ground, picking up the strewn papers about the floor without instruction. Her long, flaxen hair curtained her face as she gathered them one by one in silence. Once she had collected them all, she rose to stand, carefully placing the yellow-stained pages on the oak table.

She curtsied, a small smile on her face. “Your Grace.”

Roy lifted his downcast gaze, jolted from his frustration at the unexpected voice. His hands were still gripping the edge of the table, unmoving, but his anger was quickly abated as he recognized the young lady in olive green, floor-length gown.

He straightened his back and spoke softly, “Sorry, Winry. I didn’t realize you were here…”

She shook her head and smiled, letting him know that she had taken no offense of his behavior. She snuck in a furtive glance at the stack of paper she placed on the center of the table, and she politely inquired, “Forgive my impertinence, Your Grace, but could I offer you with any help?”

Roy chuckled at her decorum, “Winry, need I remind you that you have no obligations for formalities with me? You are as good as a little sister to me.”

She draped her wavy locks over one shoulder, letting out a small laugh, and she replied in a derisive tone, “I have to practice for when you become king. I would like to keep my head, thank you very much!”

The young lady-in-waiting was Pinako Rockbell’s granddaughter, raised within the castle wall after her parents’ untimely death and recommended to learn royal duties at the callow age of ten. Her bright, cerulean eyes and cheery demeanor had turned heads, and yet she was solely focused on her training to become Lady Vanessa’s attendant when she’s crowned queen. A lively addition to the warm-hearted royal family, she grew up without many children her age and was forced to mature quicker than the spread of the historical bubonic plague. Gifted in the science of engineering, she lent her intelligence on meticulous weapon designs to create ballistic devices, which helped secure the imminent victory against Bradley’s army and prompted his soldiers to retreat back into Creta.

“Roy,” she began in a careful manner, “I couldn’t help but see what you were reading about and I… may be able to help with that...”

“Thank you for the offer, Winry, but I doubt this is something you will be able to help me with…”

“Magic. That was what you were reading about, yes?”

She took two steps toward him until she was only inches away from the large wooden table. She divulged information in a low voice, mumbling as quietly as possible so that only Roy could hear, “I may be acquainted with _someone_ who is… familiar with... the topic of your study…”

He looked up immediately, a glimmer of hope in his raven eyes. His heart drummed rapidly with excitement as though he had run a race, and his facial expression reflected it. He nudged for her to resume her speech.

“I came across two brothers in the woods when I was checking on the trebuchet that one night... I haven’t told a soul about their existence...”

He was quick to assure, willing to take any chance at a resolution to Riza’s woe, “Winry, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

She whispered in his ear, “I saw them practice the forbidden art, albeit by accident… But it has been confirmed that they are capable...”

He felt a jolt of adrenaline course through his veins, and he nodded with eagerness, invigorated by the newfound knowledge. He lifted his chin, looking at her with determination, “When do we leave?”

She grinned, “We leave at sundown.”

Roy gathered the mess of paper on the table and tucked them carelessly within the pages before placing the tome back into the towering bookshelf behind him. He buckled his ornate, bronze sword to his belt, and hurriedly led the young woman by the small of her back so that they could prepare for their journey. His steps were brisk, and he couldn’t wait to tell Riza the good news, hungry to see a glint of hope in her eyes as badly as he craved to hear the sound of her voice.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun could not have set more slowly tonight, disappearing behind the snowy mountain peaks at such an agonizing rate, gradually painting the sky from its golden ray color to a resplendent scarlet and purple hue. Darkness loomed in not moments later, and quick, light footsteps were heard in the stony corridor. Roy slipped on his brown riding gloves, matching the color of his traveling cloak, and he peeked his head out from behind a white, Roman pillar. It was time to leave.

Roy cautiously strode onto the next pillar, turning his head to the woman in tailored chemisette and knee-length riding boots, signaling for her to join him. She crouched, tiptoeing ever so quietly past the heavy-eyed guard stationed along the hallway. He stooped down and turned the knob to the arched door, his late mother’s old bedchamber, and silently cued to Winry to enter the room.

Riza heard the abrupt footsteps entering her room and she spontaneously picked up the brass candle holder atop her bedside table, gripping it tightly, ready to strike. Roy stood up in an instant, hands up in a surrender pose, and he could see her mouth some phrases that looked like expletives.

He chuckled, reaching for her hands and lowering them gently. “This is the only time I am glad that you don’t have your voice.”

Riza sighed in relief, but she could feel her hand reflexively clench into a fist as she remarked the woman standing behind Roy. Roy noticed the shift in posture and grasped her hand, “Riza, it’s all right.” He motioned for the blonde woman behind him to come forward, “This is Winry. Pinako’s granddaughter. She’s going to help us.” He pointed to her larynx.

Winry curtsied, “Riza, pleasure to meet you. I wish we could meet under better circumstances, but this will have to do.”

Riza awkwardly mirrored her, curtsying with hesitation, and Roy watched her endearing gesture with enjoyment, smiling to himself.

Winry resumed her explanation, “I prepared two horses behind the castle. It will take longer to traverse the woods at night, so we must hurry.”

  
The woods were not the kindest of place, but they supposed it was best that way. It had meant that it would be harder to track them down. They arrived at a small clearing with no direct pathways, and Roy thought for a second that they were lost, stuck in a labyrinth of enormous pine and maple trees and prickly bushes.

Winry spoke without delay, “We should leave the horses here. Their cottage is only about a mile away.” She offered a hand to Riza, which she took without reluctance, and Winry coiled an arm around hers as Riza fixed the hem of her floor-length dress. Winry handed her a muzzle-loaded firearm, and Riza shot her a look of concern, “There are animals in the forest. We have to be safe... And we need to tailor you some riding gears.” The younger woman chuckled.

Roy inquired with hesitance, holding the reins of both horses in his hand, “How would we find our way back?”

“Roy, do you trust me?” Winry asked with a firm tone.

Roy paused, and yet he found himself tying the horses’ reins to a small branch, patting them once by the neck before trailing behind Winry. He took wider strides so he could close the distance with the two women, and he stealthily slipped his hand into Riza’s, weaving their fingers together.

Winry took a glimpse at the pair and noticed his sneaky gesture, smiling to herself. She had never known Roy to be _this_ protective of someone, and yet there was something more intimate in the way he held her hand. Her mind couldn’t help but fly to one particular woman, who was currently hundreds of miles away from the kingdom. What would _she_ say about this? Winry’s allegiance, however, lay with Roy and she would keep a tight lip about this matter for as long as she was alive.

“I see you two have become rather... _close_ ,” Winry giggled, teasing lilt in her voice.

Riza instantaneously withdrew her hand from his as she registered her words, but he gripped it firmly, communicating to her that it was fine. She could hear the rapid thrum of her heart in her ears as she discerned the firmness of his grasp, and she questioned herself as to why she was so drawn to him in the first place. After all, she had never met the man before until the a few days ago. Nevertheless, there was something familiar about him, and she would find herself tilting her head quizzically each time he walked, spoke, and flooded her with his alluring gaze. Everytime he was within her reach, she wanted to embrace him, to shower him with her undivided attention. Frankly, Riza felt as though she had stumbled upon him in a previous life, and it was unnerving that she could not pinpoint the exact source of this attachment. She wondered if the feeling was mutual...

“Roy, your coronation is fast approaching...” Winry casually mentioned, stepping over a large, broken down tree branch.

Roy interjected curtly, one hand pushing away thickets and wildberry shrubs, “Stop right there. Let’s not speak about that.”

“Why not?” she replied nonchalantly.

“Because… you know why. I have spoken to you about this a million times.”

Winry did not mutter a word at his irritated tone, continuing to traverse through the thick forest in an assured direction. But Riza took note of his aversion about the subject, and she contemplated to herself as to why he was so reluctant about his accession. The sound of dry leaves crackled from the ground, and Winry unabashedly probed into another topic, “Then could I ask what precipitated you to research about magic?”

Roy glanced at Riza with diffidence, but she caught his gaze and nodded in approval.

“Well, I saw her transform into a beast...” Riza glowered at him. “I’m sorry, I meant to say a beautiful… oceanic beast… I am not sure what to call _it_...” Riza’s body heaved as she silently laughed at his description of her mermaid form, and she squeezed his hand in amusement.

“Hmm… Oceanic beast, you say?”

He shot her a questioning look, “Yes…?”

“What a strange coincidence... Grandmother was asking for my help to look for a book about _oceanic beasts_ the other day.”

Roy hummed at the revelation. That was _interesting_.

Winry halted in her track, carefully drawing the curtaining willow leaves, and she pointed to a small cottage near a riverbank in the distance.

The tiny house looked sturdy, made of thick slate-colored rectangular stones, which were neatly arranged into a dome. Checkered shape stained-glass of rainbow colors embellished the windows, and yet the entrance was polarizing with only a simple wooden door. The turf-style green roof were very steep, protruding downward like a slippery slope, but the bird’s nest sitting atop it planted its home firmly to the sod.

Winry observed their surroundings before knocking three times in a coded rhythm.

A glaring image suddenly flashed in Riza’s mind. It was of a young woman with long, golden hair. Her locks were tucked over one shoulder, neatly twisted into a braid. Riza could not see her face clearly, clouded by a thin blanket of smoke, and yet she could distinguish her soft, lulling voice, _“And the prince ventured into the forest to find the missing princess…”_ she would read, index finger dawdling on a picture of a cottage in the middle of a forest, similar to the one right before her eyes. Riza shook her head, clearing the image from her mind, but she could not stop musing over the intrusive recollection.

The door to the cottage opened slowly, the creaks singing in a crescendo, and Riza could see golden eyes peeking out in the sliver between the door, and she quickly disregarded her train of thoughts.

“Edward, it’s Winry!” She pushed the door inward, hitting him squarely on the face.

Riza heard a low cry of pain, and the blonde haired young man with those piercing eyes emerged from behind the door. His eyes were heavy lidded and they were slanted in an irritated fashion, as though he was forcefully awaken from his beauty sleep. He seemed to be about the same age as Winry, only a mere inch taller than her with a childlike demeanor, and yet the features he exhibited displayed many years of struggles and suffering. He had a deep cut across one cheek, a bright red line that stood out against his fair complexion, and it looked to be a recent injury from the way the flesh hung open. He was also missing some body parts. His right arm was not made of skin and bones, instead it was constructed of a painstakingly crafted gray, metal frame with hollow insides. His left leg just below the knee had the same artificial limb, propping his body upright in such a natural position that Riza would have missed it if he had not been wearing a short, linen tunic.

“Edward, I brought some guests.”

“Winry, how many times do I have to tell you that we do NOT like visitors, especially strangers!”

Winry smirked towards the couple standing behind her, “Actually, he is your future king… And she could very well be your future queen.”

Heat creeped up Riza’s cheek, and she could hear Roy swallow thickly.

Edward gaped at the revelation, and yet he dismissed the fact as quickly as he learned it. His attitude remained disrespectful, a jeer at the tip of his tongue, but he was promptly smacked on the head by another figure behind him. “Brother, don’t be rude!”

A young man with the same golden eyes and hair quickly bowed to Roy and Riza, pulling his brother who was standing by the doorway by the collar so that he was also in the same bowing position, “Ahh forgive my brother, Your Grace... Please come in.”

Roy waved off his courtliness, “Please call me Roy. This is Riza. There is no need for formality…?”

He replied with insistent politeness, “Alphonse Elric, Your Grace. And this is my brother, Edward Elric. We are both pleased to be of your acquaintance.”

“I will save the idle chatter. We are here because Winry informed me that you can perform... magic… And I was hoping you would be able to help Riza restore her voice. Oh, and one more thing... she is not fully human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! And I am excited to write the next couple chapters because ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	6. secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next chapter will be posted tomorrow night unless something happens. And then I will be spending my next few days helping the parents move :(

"Elizabeth… please?" he spoke quietly, looking at her with his large, almond-shaped eyes. His messy bangs covered a portion of his dark orbs, and she was glad for the obstruction, for if she could see the entirety of his pleading eyes she would not have been able to reject him.

She shook her head lightly and leaned her head forward so he could hear her whisper, "No, you will get us in trouble…"

"We have already been here for three hours!" he raised his voice, unable to hide the alacrity of leaving the dreadful lesson, and it jolted her out of her seat in surprise, making a slight screeching noise as her chair was pushed back reflexively.

"Lord Mustang, is there something you would like to share?" The man behind the podium brought his head up, staring down at the two children across from him. The tone of his voice was flat and monotonic, similar to the lessons he gave.

"Um, no..."

The teacher eyed him intently, "Then why did you raise your voice? If you have completed your reading, I shall add more to your pile."

Elizabeth quickly interrupted, shifting her sight to look at the man with a solemn expression, "Please forgive him, Grandmaster. He was helping me with a question."

The balding man in the damask-woven robe narrowed his eyes slightly at the honey-eyed girl, and he pondered to himself for a moment before finally fixating his gaze onto the text in front of him. The white beard on his chin rested on the page he was reading, and it looked humorous to Elizabeth as he swatted it out of the way with each flip of the page. She waited a few seconds for their teacher to lift his head back up, expecting to receive some sort of punishment for the interruption, but he did not even flinch an inch. He instead continued to focus his attention on his book, and it gave her a sense of relief.

"Come on, Elizabeth," Roy begged for the third time in the past five minutes.

She glanced at the old grandmaster. He seemed to be focused on his book, the tip of his nose hovering over the parchment, his eyes bulging out of its sockets each time he read a word. Perhaps if they sprinted as fast as possible before their master could unleash the guards on them, they would be able to buy themselves enough time to flee to their secret hiding place. Then they would just have to wait it out until the guards had ceased their search.

"...Fine, but we should run  _fast_  to our usual place before he sends the guards to go after us."

The boy grinned, nodding excitedly at her agreement. He took her hand and weaved his fingers around hers firmly, facing her and mouthing the countdown. One… Two… and at the last second he yelled loudly, "Three!"

The raven-haired boy and flaxen-haired girl sprang out of their seats abruptly, storming to the exit without glancing at the surprised grandmaster. Their lungs were on fire as they sprinted, breath held in thrill until they reached the arched stony doorway, and they laughed out loud as they left the dull and gloomy classroom.

They ran past the red-brick courtyard, taking a sharp turn at the end of the trellised hallway, and they climbed down the spiral staircase until they reached the first landing where their secret hiding place was located. At the push of a slate-colored brick, the one only Roy and Elizabeth could recognize, the secret compartment grunted in its place, its sound echoing in the dimly lit part of the castle.

They entered the small room where giant rubbles could be seen blocking a large portion of the passageway. A previously used secret tunnel, Roy had casually mentioned one time. They took a seat on the ground across from each other. Cobwebs and dust had occupied their hiding place when they first discovered it, but after days of sneaking in and out to clean and decorate the crawl space, it had looked as immaculate as a newly built shrine.

Roy lit a candle and planted its brass holder in between them, and the silhouette of dancing flame across the children's faces highlighted the mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Why do we have lessons every day? It's no fun," Roy huffed in annoyance.

"Because you don't want to be stupid the rest of your life," Elizabeth stated matter-of-factly.

He smirked, "I am already smart. I don't need daily lessons to make me smarter."

Elizabeth giggled at his insistence, "But one day you will be king, and a king has to be smart. Smarter than you are now."

Roy darted his gaze from Elizabeth, seemingly musing over something of importance. She could barely see the shift in his facial features as she observed him, but it didn't escape her that he was becoming flustered as he slicked his messy hair back, a trait she associated with being nervous. He gingerly took her hand in his, and she could feel the clamminess of his hand, slight moisture seeping from his palm. He stammered in a reflective tone, "When I become king... I want you to be my queen."

Elizabeth could feel her cheek ripen like a tomato, a flutter in her heart like a butterfly taking flight, but she wasn't sure why she felt that way. She stared at him and nodded, speaking the first thing that popped in her mind, "I want to be called Queen Riza."

"Queen Riza?"

"Yes, because there was already a Queen Elizabeth. I don't want to be called Queen Elizabeth number two," she stated nonchalantly, finger tutting in the air.

Roy chuckled at the younger girl, and he corrected her endearing reply, "There were actually a few Queen Elizabeth's, but Queen Riza sounds just as beautiful."

Her blushing cheeks felt hot at the acknowledgment, and she shifted her gaze away from him.

He extended his pinky finger to her, a playful grin on his face, "Promise?" And she giggled at him, looping her pinky finger around his and touching their thumbs together.

All of a sudden a loud booming sound reverberated in the tiny space, and it jerked Roy and Riza out of their handshake. Her eyes widened in terror, nervous sweat forming on her hairline, and she scooted closer to Roy, pulling her knees close to her chest and curling the rest of her body into a ball. He slid his arm around her arched back and wrapped her in a protective embrace, listening to the fortissimo of his own palpitating heart in his ears.

The explosive sound became clearer with each second that passed, followed by muffled sounds of screams and shrieks, and Riza trembled in her place, fear settling in her core. She tucked her forehead in Roy's chest, concealing her sight from the anticipated danger, and he wrapped his other arm around her as he buried his head in her hair. Both children shook uncontrollably, heart drumming rapidly in their chests, too afraid to run, too afraid to think of a plan to escape.

Sunlight infiltrated the dark room unexpectedly, forcing both children to shield their eyes from the glare. A towering figure with long hair extended its arm inside the space, reaching for the girl in Roy's arms. Roy swiftly opened his eyes, and as it gradually adjusted to the brightness, he could make out the outline of a strange man with yellow hair. He saw the man's hand grab at Riza, and Roy reflexively slapped and kicked it wildly, yelling profanity as he attempted to steer his imminent grasp away from her. He ignored his feeble blows.

Roy screamed at him, "Get away from her! Don't touch her!"

But the blonde-haired man seemed unfazed by his act of violence, and he successfully gripped Riza by the wrist, dragging her out of her hiding corner and picking up her thrashing body in his arm. Tears rolled down from her cheeks as she extended her hand out to Roy. She writhed in the stranger's arm, but her small body was no match for his strength, and he effortlessly carried her away. She yelled for Roy, piercing scream filling the air, "Roooooy!"

Roy rammed his body into the figure, looping his arms around his torso instinctively, halting him in his track for a mere second. Roy shouted at him, tightening his hold on him, "Let her go! Please let her go!"

He scoffed, a twisted tinge of delight in his cadence, "Well, well aren't you a troublesome one. No matter, I will erase this memory from your tiny brain when I am done with this place." He muttered an incomprehensible incantation that sent Riza into a dream state, and he kicked the boy roughly back into the dark corner of their secret place. The man then casted a spell under his breath, and the next thing Roy remembered was waking up on his own comfortable bed with scratches and bruises on his body with no memory of what had transpired.

 

* * *

 

**Present Time...**

_It's impossible._

_It will never return._

She stared at the several complex circles on the floor, each line drawn with precision and care, and yet neither had worked as intended. She felt terrible for imposing, for wasting their time, but they seemed eager to continue. At this point she wasn't sure if they had been trying to help her or if they had been using her as their guinea pig. Nonetheless, she had given them the benefit of the doubt and stuck with the former.

She was exhausted. They were reaching the end of the sixth hour and the thirteenth attempt, and by now she was certain she would never get it back. Her propped up back against the jagged wall was slowly slumping, her breathing becoming shallow, and the wound on her neck throbbed again for the umpteenth time. The only thing she craved was a warm bed to rest her weary body and close her eyes for an indefinite amount of time. She twisted her neck to the right to look at Roy and noticed how his eyelids were heavy, as though there were brass bell weights hanging onto them. Riza was sure if she had her voice to hum a soothing melody, he would have closed his eyes in an instant. Winry had rested her head on Roy's shoulder, snoring quietly with each rise and fall of her chest. The poor girl could no longer fight the languor of sleep, and Riza reminded herself to thank them both later, whether this was successful or not.

She jogged her memory to that night. How did he do it? She knew that no spell was cast on her when she left, and she definitely had her voice then. She had used it to scream at the top of her lungs until he retreated to his study, unwilling to share any more than he already had. And as far as she had known, he never laid a hand on her. Ever. Let alone cast a spell. Then how?

"Hmm… This is more complicated than we thought…" Alphonse rubbed his chin, one hand flipping through the weighty tome. He trailed his index finger on the aged vellum, traversing through the colorful images and diagrams, and he mumbled to himself, "I am quite certain the key to retrieving it is the sigil on her back..."

Edward called out to his younger brother from across the room in a curious voice. He lifted his head, which had been focused on the scribbled text in front him since the last bright light filled the room. "Al, I think we should try  _that_."

Al chastised his brother, "Ed, we only have five hours until sunrise! And Riza seems exhausted," he paused, convincing not only his brother but also himself, "Besides,  _that_  is forbidden."

Edward replied in a firm tone, "Al, what we have been doing for the past six hours  _is_  forbidden in Amestris. We also don't have enough knowledge nor time to decipher her back."

The younger blonde man countered, "Brother, please remember what happened to your limbs when you tried to heal mother's collapsing lungs."

"That was a little different... We couldn't heal mother, so I tried to  _restore_  her lungs without exchanging something that she had of equal value. But what if we take something Riza has and exchange it for her voice? Perhaps that would work."

Al attempted to persuade his brother in a disapproving tone, "Ed... There's no such thing as a miracle worker… You are  _not_  one..."

Edward approached a reluctant Al, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it lightly before staring dead ahead at Riza. Riza rose on her knees, heaving ever so quietly while placing a hand against the wall to aid her tired body to a stand. Roy flung his eyes wide open as the heat of her skin left his side, jolted Winry out of her slumber in the process. She took the role of a silent audience as she walked quietly to the wooden chair in the corner of the room.

Ed took a step towards Riza with determined eyes, and suddenly the small young man looked wise beyond his age. "Riza, I assure you that if this goes wrong, my body will pay for the toll and nothing should happen to you. We can start-"

Al interjected loudly, "Wait! I will do it!" He pointed to his brother, "You have lost enough body parts." And he turned to look at Riza, "Please have no worries Lady Riza, I am just as competent as my brother. Well,  _almost_. But rest assured that I am perfectly capable to perform this spell."

Ed muttered to himself, constantly nodding and humming as he mulled over the details of their plan, and he chimed in thoughtfully, "Before we start, we have to ask the most important question. What are you willing to lose forever? And you can't say a toe or anything lesser than the value of your voice."

Roy interrupted, "Before we dive into this, can I be convinced that Al will not be losing any limbs in the process? I am sure Riza would feel at ease knowing this fact." He searched for an answer on her face, and she nodded in agreement without hesitance.

" _That_  is a promise I am willing to make, Your Grace," Al nodded, confidence in his lilt.

Roy hummed at the offer, and Riza could see the master strategist at work as he played his role of the devil's advocate, considering all aspects of his battle plan, "And say we aren't successful, what price do you pay if not your limbs? What price does  _she_  pay?  _Her_  limbs?"

Edward answered truthfully, "As far as this is concerned… the price she pays is the one thing she is surrendering, and we believe she will never be able to retrieve it ever again. It doesn't have to be her limbs..."

"Then what?" Roy stared at Edward unamused.

Edward replied without a doubt, "Her ability to change into a mermaid should be equivalent to her voice."

Riza had an uncertain look on her face as she perceived his suggestion, and if she had her voice she would have opposed the idea right away. She shot a pointed look at Roy, who she hoped would understand her disapproval of the plan by the furrowing of her brows and the narrowing of her piercing eyes. He studied her features, a lingering gaze on her, and she was sure that he had understood and would reject their proposal on her behalf. Instead, what flew out of his mouth was a confident "When shall we start?"

Riza threw her hands in front of him as he spoke and gave him a look of disbelief, but he convinced her further, "Riza, think about it. What use will you have of that ability?"

Well, I need it to return home, for one, she grumbled.

Ed added casually, "I agree with him. You have no use for that form. It's better that you stay here and not return to the underwater kingdom."

Roy registered the unexpected information, confusion in his intonation, "How do you know so much?"

Alphonse was ready to speak his mind, but Edward quickly raised his hand, halting his brother's speech as he resumed his train of thought, "It is a dying society. There will be no more of them in a few years time."

Al interrupted ever so quietly, as if trying to salvage whatever is left of the secret Ed was about to reveal, "Brother…"

The older brother paused, expelling his breath loudly. He took a quick glance at his brother, who gave him a stern look. But as Ed looked on pointedly, Al eventually relented, nodding once at his brother as confirmation that he was permitted to divulge the rest of their secret.

"Our father was the same as Riza. So, that makes us half mermen…"

Al continued in a soft voice, "We have not been back into the ocean since our father left, and we haven't had the need to."

Roy gazed at Riza with a soft smile, "Riza, what is your answer?"

She contemplated their inclination, and the more she thought about what was waiting for her back home, the more her decision swayed. They were right, there were only a handful of people in that crumbling civilization. Most of the citizens had swum to the neighboring country, away from the kingdom that had banned their primordial practice of magic. Many during her lifetime had left, too, leaving Riza with only her father in that disintegrating remains of a house. Would he even allow her back after what she did? She sighed heavily, finally arriving on an answer. She gave a nod of confirmation to Alphonse, who quickly drew a complex circular design with his chalk.

The next thing she knew was that Al had erased the previously drawn circles on the floor and replaced it with one large enough to accommodate her whole body. She laid down as instructed, her breath hitched in anticipation, and moments later a blinding light emerged from the circle.

She woke from what felt like days of unconsciousness, her lips were chapped, and her throat was dry. She made out wisps of faces as she lifted her weighty eyelids, slowly forming an outline of familiar faces until her large, hazel eyes recognized them as Roy, Winry, Al, and Ed. They had a look of apprehension about their faces.

Her memory was muddy, barely able to recall the last thing that happened. She blinked once, twice, and on the third she fully comprehended the situation before her and immediately reached for her two legs, two arms, and ventured her hands through the rest of her body. Nothing seemed to be missing, and she sighed aloud in relief.

Roy gulped as he watched her inspect each and every corner of her skin, and he spoke in a kind yet impatient cadence, "Riza, try speaking."

Her heart stopped at the suggestion, and she could feel her breath hitch again in suspense. She cleared her throat at the command, and she took a deep breath, feeling adrenaline course in her veins from excitement and anxiety. She licked her lips and swallowed thickly before finally croaking a sound that was one of familiarity, "Roy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments/reviews are much appreciated :D


	7. intimacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As promised.  
> Warning: Smut.

The ride back was surreal. The  _whole night_  had been surreal. What should have been an hour on horseback felt like mere minutes, and Riza supposed it was because she felt weightless, the heavy burden crushing her shoulder had been lifted, and she felt free, like the prison chains that had been clasped around her wrists were finally released.

The door creaked open and the ominous sound of the wind outside whistled itself into her chamber. The storm was coming, and she was glad that they made it back to the castle in one piece, unseen and undiscovered by its dwellers. She looked up at the familiar figure entering her room, and she felt warmth wash over her at the sight.

The man gingerly lowered himself onto the soft sheepskin rug on the floor, taking a seat next to her. He looked at her with a kind expression, and his baritone voice joined the crackling sound of flame from the fireplace as he inquired curiously, "Can't sleep?"

She stared into his dark eyes, and it seemed darker and deeper now that the only source of light was the dancing blaze of the hearth. She shook her head lightly, squeaking her still recovering vocal cord, "No. I was tired back at the cottage, but now that my voice has returned, I just become too excited. I swear I could see myself burst into a song if the situation allows me." She laughed airily.

He chuckled at her jest, "I'm glad you're happy…" Then he exhaled loudly, musing his thought aloud, "Do you have any regrets losing your ability to transform?"

She smiled endearingly, replying in an unintentionally husky voice, "It hasn't come to me  _yet_ , but I assure you, you will hear from me if I ever feel that way."

He shifted his body closer to hers until he could feel heat radiate from her skin. He placed his thumb on her chin, gently lifting it and turning her head to face him. He gazed into her mysterious yet familiar hazel eyes, a recognizable brown color that had been haunting his memory in recent times, and he hesitantly asked, "I have a million questions for you and I'm sure you do, too, but I will spare those questions for another time. Instead, would you allow me to take a look at the sigil on your back? There was a part that looked eerily  _familiar_ … just like how  _you_  look  _familiar_  to me..."

Her heart halted at his revelation, and she searched the depth of his orbs for that same sentiment, seeing it and yet constantly losing it the moment she grasped for it. She untied the sash of her silky cream nightgown, turning her back towards him before draping the garment down to reveal her inked skin.

He slowly extended his hand to ghost over the captivating lines and markings, and he could feel the thin, flaxen hair on her back rise with each and every sensation of his fingertips, shivering her entire body. He came across the salamander etching just above her waistline, and he somehow recognized the design in the back of his mind. He leaned his head forward until the tip of his nose hovered just above the intricate symbol, and he studied the multitude shades of red and the precisely drawn outline with curiosity.

Riza wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging it closely as she inwardly reveled in his gentle caresses of her back. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, each exhale sending a tingling sensation from the crown of her head to the tip of her toe. Every time she sensed the sultriness of each puff, she would hold her breath in suspense, and a strange and wonderful heat would pool in her stomach, slowly traversing down to her womanly parts.

He hummed to himself as he touched the scripts and outlines, feeling no grooves on her etched skin, as if a towel wipe of her back would erase the markings in an instant. He pressed his nose forward, tilting his head ever so slightly, and he sighed in disappointment as he unsuccessfully jogged his brain for a flash of memory of the design on her back.

Another puff of warm air breathing down her back and more delicate touches from his fingertips, and she felt intense passion from the culmination of his ministration threaten to burst out of its shell, an invitation for her to turn around and explore the man behind her.

She replayed their kiss in the hot spring, his soft lips along her jawline and his steady hands holding her in place, and everything about him allowed her mind to imagine  _things_  he could do with those gifts. She twisted her body to face him with her racing heart for companion, unable to contain the beguiling sensation in her chest and groins along with her roaming imagination, and she reflexively reached for his cheek, cupping it lightly, caressing his fair skin with her thumb.

Roy was jolted in shock at her sudden reaction, his eyes widening and mouth slightly gaping. And yet a large part of him enjoyed her impertinence, welcoming the unexpected with open arms.

She bent her knees and leaned her body forward, focusing her sight on his irresistible lips. She placed a chaste kiss, savoring the softness in quietude, until she realized what she had done and quickly retracted her action. She stammered an apology, but she knew inside that she didn't regret a single instance of her impoliteness, "So-sorry… I couldn't help…"

His astonished look dissipated at the croak of her voice, and his own lips were already missing the plumpness of hers. His breathing was becoming shallow as he discerned his palpitating heart, and yet he had no time to calm it down as his body screamed for more of her, so he obliged by interrupting her speech in an impatient tone, "Riza, I'm sorry, too." And he swiftly tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her head closer to his and reuniting their lips.

His passion was only invigorated in the short cessation, and he savored the sweet taste of her mouth, biting her bottom lip with hunger. She returned his fervor, tasting the warmth of his lips with each lick of her tongue before sucking it roughly inside her mouth. He trailed hot kisses down her neck, traversing her bare shoulder and toward her chest where a sliver of her gown had unwrapped itself. He looped one arm around her back, pulling her torso closer to his lips and arching her back in the process. He lingered his lips on her breast bone, giving it his undivided attention, and he became flooded in her alluring scent.

She laid down her body on the delicate rug, the silk wrapping around her body becoming undone, and the thin cloth slid down the curve of her breasts, revealing her budding nipples. She closed her eyes and laced her restless fingers in his raven hair as he journeyed back up toward her collar bone, along the contour of her lithe form, and she pulled one knee toward herself instinctively in delight. As he reached the outline of her jaw, she reached for his collar and gripped it tightly, coaxing his mouth back into hers.

He abruptly pulled from the kiss and hovered his face over hers, and at the pause for breath, he spoke with haste, "Riza, if you want me to stop, tell me now before I lose myself."

She opened her eyes and gazed into his fiery ones, unblinking, and she answered firmly and without a doubt, "I don't want you to stop."

He tucked his head in her neck, breathily whispering in her ear, and she could hear the mischievous lilt in his voice, "Good, because I can't wait to fuck  _you_."

Her heart skipped a beat as she registered the thirst in his tone, but he quickly restored it to its rapid thumping as he took her sensitive nipple into his mouth, lapping his saliva on the perky bud. He moved onto the other one, licking and nipping her teat vigorously, and she shuddered in contentment, unable to stifle a breathy moan at the sensation.

She grabbed the hem of his woven sleeping robe and lifted it hurriedly, wanting to see more of his bare skin. She spread her hand over his chest, pressing her palm rigidly against his muscular abdomen and tracing it down toward his pelvis, feeling his sweat seep from each pore of his skin along the way. Her hand arrived at his marred skin, large angry welts adorning the otherwise flawless coloring, and it precipitated questions about that night in her mind. But she couldn't bring herself to ask about it now, and instead introduced her hand by touching the peaks and valleys of its charred flesh.

He grunted with pleasure at her little attention, and it sent a blazing sensation to his already tenting bulge, hardening it even more. He ventured his hands below her waist and to her legs, and he eyed the seeping juice on her undergarment. He grabbed the hem of her underwear, and she quickly lifted her knee to free herself from the obstructing garment. She slipped the article down her calves and tossed the fabric over her head, and she spread her knees apart for him.

He relished in the glistening of her opening as he looked on, and he reflexively licked his lip and pursed it hungrily.

"Riza, you're really wet..."

She replied seductively with half lidded eyes, "Are you going to do something about it?"

And at her words, he swiftly stuck his head in between her shapely thighs, and he drove his tongue in between her wet lips, plunging it into her without reservation.

She let out a loud moan at the pleasurable intrusion, and she could feel the heat of his breath and the prodding of his tongue inside her, hitting her sensitive spots and sending her slowly into a euphoric state. Her body was gradually enveloped in a building intoxication, and yet he stopped before she could burst out in satisfaction, her brows furrowing from disappointment as his warmth left her tingling parts below.

"Roy…?"

Riza watched him stand up languidly, unbuttoning his white robe in an unhurried fashion, as if trying to instill more craving into her already aching form. He slid his arms out of the fabric slowly, and as Riza watched, she couldn't help but admire his gorgeous, toned body.

"Do you like what you see?" he smirked.

She nodded and splayed her legs, spreading them open almost in a reflex, baring it to him. She watched him undress himself piece by piece, and she couldn't help herself but extend a finger to play with the nub above her soaked tunnel. She rubbed her clit in a circular motion slowly and then gradually quickening the pace as he took off the last remaining piece of cloth, and she could feel her heart thrum in response in a similar tempo. His cock sprang up as he released his last constricting undergarment, and her eyes widened ever so slightly.

He watched her perform a ministration on herself, and it set his heart racing underneath his skin as he gaped at her in surprise. He crawled above her and gently removed her rapidly moving finger, replacing it with one of his own just over her opening.

He whispered with his deep voice, "Let me help you." And she relented.

He brought her hand up to his mouth, and he licked the juice on her finger with an unquenchable appetite. He then inserted his finger slowly into her, and her body writhed mildly from the pressure. She uttered quietly as his finger entered her, "Roy, please…"

He pushed and pulled out of her slick passage, and his groin was throbbing from the imagination of him entering her. He inserted another finger inside the slippery folds, and she groaned from the thickness of two, sending the guttural yet sultry sound directly into his rigid shaft.

She creased the bridge of her nose, and she opened her eyes to a half-lid, looking at him with that seductive look, "R-Roy… I…"

He quickened his pace as he watched her aroused expression, and she gradually matched his speed with her thrashing legs. He could feel she was close to her release, and he nibbled on her earlobes playfully before whispering in her ear, "Come for me, Riza."

And at his command she felt her insides clenched around his fingers, and she huffed and puffed erratically, letting out a satisfied moan as bliss traveled through every part of her being.

The sound of her moan only intensified his needs, and he moved his hand to relieve his throbbing penis. He closed his eyes and stared at her still writhing body, and he began to slide his dick in his gripping hand with a little bit more speed until he felt her calloused hand on his wrist.

"Now let  _me_  help you," she stared at him, biting her bottom lip.

She tucked a stray golden lock behind her ear, and she clasped the rest of her thick hair with one hand as she leaned down to taste his member. She opened her mouth widely and lapped her tongue at the head, coating the tip with eagerness, and she swallowed the rest of him.

He exhaled loudly as she took him in, and he couldn't suppress an expletive, " _Fuck_ … Riza…"

Her head bobbed up and down while her hand played with his hardening balls, and he weaved his hands in her hair as he sighed in pleasure. He thrusted his pelvis up and into her mouth each time she sucked, and he let out a loud moan in return.

She stopped her gesture as she tasted his precum on her tongue, and she looked down at him with a small smile, caressing his thighs ever so lightly. He understood what she was insinuating by the look on her face. He moved her torso up so that she could lie her entire body on the shag rug. He observed how her shiny yellow hair splayed out on the floor in a spiral, and he couldn't help but admire her beautiful features. The lust in him felt strangely misplaced, and he could have sworn that he felt love for the woman he barely knew.

He sucked on her neck as he whispered, "I'll take  _you_  on the floor, but I think you prefer the comfort of the bed..."

She chuckled and nodded in agreement, "Let's move to the bed."

He lifted her naked body into his arms and embraced her protectively. She wrapped her legs around his torso, and he could feel her moist sex on his body, and his cock twitched at the thought.

She looped her arms around his neck and smiled in glee, enjoying the closeness of their skin. She wondered for the millionth time about her unyielding fondness for the man before her. This beautiful man had taken care of her since the day they met, and she knew it was only a matter of time before her attraction for him could no longer be contained. She felt a bubbling sensation in the pit of her stomach when he curled his lips up into a half moon, and she realized it was from the anticipation of their consummation. His smile enticed her to kiss him fiercely as he carried her onto the bed, and he carefully lay her down onto the satin sheet, and he hoisted himself onto the bed after her.

He climbed over her body, kissing her softly on the lips before grabbing his stiff penis and hovering it over her entrance.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded with certainty.

The tip of his cock touched the wet lips, and he slowly penetrated her soaking passage with his thickness while studying her anticipating expression. As he inserted about halfway through, he could see a change in her facial appearance, and she let out a small cry.

He looked at her with concern, "Am I hurting you?"

Her pained expression turned into a chuckle, and she whispered truthfully, "No,  _you_  are just bigger than I expected." And with that, she clamped her legs around his torso and pushed him deep inside her, and they both moaned out loud as he filled the rest of her.

He pulled in and out of her at a slow pace, steadily setting their pace until both of them could get used to each other's rhythm. Her hips started moving to the motion, meeting his beat, and he knew she had adjusted to his thrusting. He accelerated his speed and slammed his pelvis into her, and moments later they could hear the slapping sound of flesh against flesh in a quick yet consistent tempo, the sound of panting filling the dimly lit room.

Riza looped her arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes as both of their bodies rocked in unison. He flipped her over so that she was on top, his hard dick still inside her, and it earned him a high-pitched yelp from her and he laughed lightly in return.

He placed his hands on her hips to steady her, helping her move up and down as she rode his rigid penis. His hand trailed onto her mound, pinching the pert nipple and playing with it, letting out a provocative sound out of her. He resumed his thrust into her, bobbing her breasts up and down with the motion.

He felt an imminent release coming from her as her insides slowly tighten against his cock, and he knew she would send him to the brink of euphoria. He wrapped her in an embrace and flipped her body over again so that she was on the bottom, and he pinned her hands above her head as he continued to penetrate deep inside her, increasing his speed. Her legs started shaking uncontrollably, and she released one hand to crumple the bedsheet, and she croaked in between her panting, "R-Roy… I'm coming…"

He sped up his thrusts even more until he finally felt her passage clamp on his shaft, and she screamed his name aloud in pleasure as she drowned in ecstasy.

He continued to push his throbbing dick inside of her, moaning her name in her ears until he felt a bursting sensation, "... _Ah_   _fuck!_ " A mere second later he felt eruption from the tip, washing his body in an equally pleasurable sensation, until his eyes widened in realization that he was injecting his hot seeds in her channel.

In a last minute attempt, he quickly pulled out of her, white substance dripping out of her opening, and he sprayed the rest of his milky fluid on her chest.

His breathing was ragged, the same as her, but he abruptly stood up to grab the linen towel on the small table next to them and bent down to wipe his seeds from his tingling member and her vagina. When he knelt to wipe her chest, he caught her play with his fluid with her fingers, and he stood still in surprise. She swiped her index finger on it and observed it curiously before inserting the sperm into her mouth innocently. She savored the taste and tilted her head as she stated, "Hmm, it tastes kind of sweet..."

He stammered, slightly embarrassed, "Sorry, I... couldn't pull out in time… I came inside you. Well,  _mostly_  inside you..." And he stared at her naked body, seeing his secretion splattered all over, and his dick twitched from the sight.

She threw him a small smile, tilting her head forward and pulling him into a slow kiss, and she spoke quietly, "Roy, it's fine.  _Really_."

He swiped her bangs away from her face gently, and he added jokingly, "Well, if you have my child, then you will be my queen."

She caressed his cheek and laughed breathlessly, "Queen Riza? That sounds ridiculous."

And suddenly a flash of image replayed in his mind. It was of a young girl with short blonde hair. The girl cheekily stated in his memory,  _"Yes, because there was already a Queen Elizabeth. I don't want to be called Queen Elizabeth number two."_

Roy stuttered at the flashback, a constricting feeling in his chest, "Ri-Riza, did you see that?"

She looked at him in confusion, "See what?"

He creased the bridge of his nose in astonishment, and he snapped the image out of his head as she studied his expression. The image disappeared a second later and he replied, "...Nothing. I must be hallucinating."

"Oh, I have that effect on you?" she giggled lightheartedly.

He laughed at her teasing and stroke the length of her hair gently. He stated with a soft tone, "Let's go to sleep, shall we? We have a long day ahead of us."

She smiled and nodded, proceeding to tuck her bare body underneath the heavy blanket. He slid under the covering with her, scooting closer and reveling in her warmth. He wrapped his arm around her as she nuzzled her back against his chest, and he kissed her hair affectionately before finally drifting off to sleep with her in his embrace.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**In the morning...**

"Chris, where is she?"

His commanding voice infiltrated the room, quick steps reverberating in the dark study.

The Queen Regent looked up from her elegant chair, and she stated nonchalantly, "I assume she is still asleep on her bed. It is still early in the morning."

The gray-bearded older man swiftly lowered himself onto the seat across from her. His breathing was erratic from his recent journey, and yet he insisted to see her the first chance he got. He countered the woman with a blatant impatience, "I have to see her. Tell me, did she come alone?"

Chris contemplated his question, and she answered with a firm tone, "Yes, she did. Was she not supposed to?"

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and without hesitance he answered her probing question, deciding that it was time he muttered the name that had always left a bitter taste in his mouth, "Was she accompanied by Berthold?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoyed that. Please let me know what you think.


	8. the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is dedicated to flourchildwrites (NPC_MPDG), I hope all is well on your end <3
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far: Ree, antimoony, Stockholmsyndrom, Renaia, NPC_MPDG, Homu-Homu, yorozvya, Flareup4Ratchet, Beebop, Sailordeedlit, Sssk611, ssadropout, Capricciosa, and fullmetalscully. I just want to let you all know that I appreciate your comments :'). Also thanks to those who followed/favorited. I hope you enjoy this smut-less but necessary chapter!

They faced each other with an affectionate gaze, studying each other's marks and imperfections. Her hand was on his face, gently caressing his cheek, and his hand was laid on the curve of her waist. They hadn't spoken a single word since the first morning ray poured into the room. Instead, they enjoyed each other's company in silence, speaking to each other with their touches and idle stares, similar to the days before she recovered her voice.

He moved his hand to the nape of her neck, fingers slipping underneath her thick, golden tresses, and he tilted his head forward to place a kiss on her forehead, down to her cheek, her lips, and then the tip of her nose. She giggled lightly as he kissed her there, and he chuckled in return.

And then she bit her bottom lip and said his name, "Roy." And again, "Roy. Roy Mustang." Like she was trying to acclimate her tongue to the moniker, rolling the R's, and emphasizing the word with a tone that was disconcerting to Roy.

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes darting wildly to examine her puzzling behavior, "Riza...?"

She slipped her hand underneath the pillow, adjusting her head to a comfortable position, her gaze unleaving him, "Sorry. It's just… Your name... I feel like I have called out to it in the past..."

He nodded in agreement. His other hand grazed her skin softly, reveling in the silky feel.

She narrowed her eyes at him as though it would provoke an absent memory somewhere in the recesses of her mind, "But we have never met before… have we? We can't have. I'm not from around here."

"No, I don't believe we have met." He added with a teasing intonation, "...But I can tell you that I don't usually sleep around with women I just met..."

She smiled sheepishly, burying her face on the pillow and muffling her sound from the embarrassment of her admission, "Well… I can't say the same about that."

"...You sleep around?" He had a disappointed look about him.

She tried to appease him with an explanation, "Not sleep around, but we, 'merpeople' as you Amestrisians call it, have mating seasons where we go on land and well… mate."

"...Right."

"You probably realized by now that we can transform into human at will… And that's how we… procreate..." She chuckled as she watched his incredulous face.

His heart briefly stopped. "And you've…  _mated_? As in you have a mate?"

"Hmm... not exactly… My younger self had been curious and wanted to experience  _it_  for herself." She couldn't help but smile as she watched the widening of his eyes. He stared at her mutely, but his expression changed into one of perplexity. She continued speaking with assurance in her tone, "Don't worry, I don't have a child, if that is what you are thinking."

Silence.

But his face was green with envy, and Riza couldn't help herself but ask with an amused lilt, "Roy, are you... jealous?"

He sighed as he traced his index finger over the curve of her body, starting from her bare shoulder, sloping down to her waist, and traversing up her hip. "Perhaps... but I know I don't have the right to be..."

She cupped his cheek, reassuring him yet again, "It was all in the past."

He tucked her loose golden strands behind her ear, and his curiosity got the best of him as he admired the woman before him, "Riza, what brought you here?"

Her smile disappeared as he reminded her of the purpose of her quest, and she quickly sat up, folding her legs under the blanket and covering her naked chest with the satin material. It wasn't as though Roy hadn't seen her completely naked, but it was because the physical attraction that manifested between them had been too great to ignore. And she had to ensure that he wouldn't derail her further from her objective.

"I came here to look for my mother."

He looked at her with confusion, "Your mother?"

She replied full of hope in her timbre, "My father told me that she was human, and that she was from Amestris…" And she stated further with conviction, "I will only return home when I find her."

He mirrored her posture, sitting up with his legs folded, but he did not bother covering his muscular abdomen, and it caught Riza's attention for a brief second. "What is your mother's name?"

She pursed her lips as she discerned how the clues to finding her mother had been scarce and ambiguous. She was hoping that the small bit of information she had would help even a little, but as she considered the large population that the great kingdom governed she felt a tinge of fear at the thought of never meeting her. "I don't know… He wouldn't tell me. But from the picture I saw of her, she and I looked very much alike… Like two peas in a pod."

His breath hitched as he considered her information. He possessed the answer to her search, or at least he was sure he did, because he had sent out a search party for Riza to no avail. He exhaled heavily, hoping his explanation wouldn't distress her too deeply, "I don't want to upset you, Riza, but I had my soldiers look for you for  _months_  and they found  _no one_  matching your description. If your mother looks like you, they would have found her already."

He could see disappointment in her eyes; it was clear as day. But the tone of her voice could barely conceal the hint of optimism she maintained, and in a strange way, it invigorated him to send his soldiers out for another round of search mission. "Perhaps she's in hiding like Ed and Al…"

"Perhaps..." Roy repeated.

She looked at him curiously, hands playing with the edge of the blanket, "...And why were you looking for  _me_?"

He shuffled in his seat, looking downward at her fiddling fingers, and he took them gingerly into his to steady them. "Because you saved me, didn't you? You pulled me out of the water..."

She smiled earnestly, letting out an insignificant laugh, "You looked like you needed help."

He hugged her in a flash, throwing his arms around her slender form and clinging onto it fiercely. His body trembled slightly as he whispered in her ear with content, and she could feel the curving of his lips against her skin, setting her cheek ablaze, "I knew it was you."

He let go of her rigid posture and placed his hands on her shoulders, pausing for a second to study the depth of her widened eyes, "This may sound ridiculous, but after you saved me I had a hard time getting you out of my mind…" He squeezed her hand gently, "I had these vivid dreams about you… And in many of them, we were so close to reaching for one another, and yet something would pull you away from me every time. Without fail..."

She had a look of disbelief across her features. She had those similar dreams.

She in turn studied his gaze, and she realized he had a yearning look about him, and he laid kisses on her knuckles softly before placing his thumb on her chin, pulling her closer to him. He moved his other hand to weave his fingers in between her strands, and he lingered a kiss on her lips with such tenderness before embracing her once more, "Please don't ever,  _ever_ leave me again. Not after I found you."

Riza was startled by the gesture, and she processed the tenacity of his words in her mind over and over, afraid she might have misunderstood his intention. Under normal circumstances, she would have laughed it off and thought nothing of it, but the tightness of his embrace coupled with the tone of his plea sounded too much like a love confession. Her heart started to beat rapidly, matching the clatter of the horses' hoofs outside, and she felt intense heat envelope her, like fire burning her from the inside out. She couldn't tell if it flared from the warmth of his body or from somewhere within her. She was mute for most of the embrace. Stunned. Astounded. Delighted. But her own body betrayed the rationality of her mind as she returned his cradle with the same intensity.

Seconds passed into minutes, and Roy eventually loosened his arms around her. His expression turned solemn, and Riza wondered what brought about this change of appearance. He took a deep breath, expelling it out with his mouth, and Riza could have sworn she saw the thin hair on his arms raise. He mouthed a word, quickly holding it at the tip of his tongue, and he tried speaking again, "Riza… I… I want to apologize in advance. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me…" He swallowed loudly, "But I am engaged to-"

" _Lady Riza?"_  A female voice called from outside, followed by loud knocks on the door. It jolted Roy out of his monologue, and Riza reflexively pushed him off the bed, knocking him over onto the floor with a violent thud. She mouthed an apology as she watched his pained expression, and she swiftly crawled on the bed to grab her sleeping gown atop the nightstand.

Another loud knock.

"Hold on one moment!" Riza shouted back. She looked to the floor to see Roy grab the clothes that were scattered on the ground, and he quickly dressed himself behind the bed.

She rushed to the door, hopping on one leg as her other foot slipped into her underwear. The wooden door creaked open, and she peered her head in between the sliver to see Pinako on the other side. She had an impatient look on her face, prying eyes peeking through the tiny creases around her body to see what kept her occupied.

"Forgive my intrusion, Lady Riza, but your attendance has been requested by the Chancellor. Please get dressed and come out when you are ready. I will be waiting outside your door," she spoke with a hurried tone.

Riza nodded, and yet her chest suddenly constricted as she perceived the Chancellor's summon. Her mind was a jumble of emotion as she remembered her sentence at the gallows, and how she should have been dead by now if Roy hadn't come and saved her. Fear was instilled inside her for a brief moment, and the demon in her conscience wished for Roy to receive the same summon so she could hide behind his authority when the need arose. Nevertheless, she shook it off and dressed herself, instructing Roy to stay in the room until she had left with the chambermaid.

 

* * *

 

 

She stared at him with a demanding look, her dark grey eyes drilling into the old man before her, "Who's Berthold?"

"It's quite a long story…" he sighed in his seat, leaning his weary body against the stiff high back.

He hated the state room. The chairs were never comfortable and they never failed to hurt his back. He didn't know how he could last through those dignitary meetings in this torture chamber.

He rubbed his aching knee in a circular motion, wincing slightly as pain shot up his leg. His month-long journey tired his aging body, and he now required longer rests with each travel. However, he did request an audience with the Queen Regent knowing that he would be drilled about  _her_ for god knows how long. But then again he had been patient, extremely patient if seventeen years was anything to go by, and he was determined to put his heart and mind at ease at last. He truly hoped,  _prayed_ , that she was the one he was looking for, and he would know once he got a good look at her.

"We have some time before Pinako fetches her. You should have seen Roy's face when he brought her here. He was…  _enraptured_  to say the least, and I have never seen my nephew look like that. She is a beautiful one, that woman. Just like your daughter."

His heart stilled at the mention of his daughter, and his breath hitched for a time. He could feel sorrow course through his fragile body, and he tried his best to conceal his glistening eyes by pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He recited the event that led to his constant search for his granddaughter, and he was surprised to find it still vividly ingrained in his declining memory. "Do you remember that incident from seventeen years ago? It happened before you moved here, when you were still living in Aerugo."

"The day your granddaughter went missing?"

"Yes, that day…" He sighed heavily as he continued his retelling, "Most of the castle dwellers did not remember what happened, and they went about their day as usual. But you were away, and I was on a trip to visit the dignitaries from Xing. Our distance from this place seems to be the only explanation as to why our memories of Elizabeth are intact."

She listened attentively, gaze reserved only for him, unblinking, "Go on."

He scoffed as an image of a particular dark blonde haired man popped into his mind, and he spoke with a slight disdain, "Don't you ever wonder who her father was?"

"Of course I have, but your stubbornness won out, did it not? And my network of spies couldn't find a trace of him."

He sensed anger building up inside, and he raised his voice with disgust, "You sent  _spies_  after my daughter?"

Her tone was calm and composed, "I did, but they always came up with nothing each time. I figured that magic or some kind of witchcraft must have been involved for them to not recover anything. I sent my best scouts you know."

He couldn't hide scorn in the lilt of his voice, caring little about any repercussions the Queen Regent could lay on him, "Then you must be delighted with what I am about to tell you. Berthold Hawkeye is her father."

"Berthold Hawkeye?"

"He's not an Amestrisian. In fact, I found him as a young child stranded by the port." He dug his elbows on his knees, hands clasping together in a praying pose, thumbs creasing his forehead. He looked up at the large woman sitting across from him, and he could clearly see that she was scrutinizing him with those wily eyes. He resumed his story with indignation for cadence, "He was weak, the boy. He was starving and covered with dirt, and he had the most pitiful look on his face. He must have been just a year or two older than Creta's King Bradley's son at the time, too young to be able to fend for himself, and too old to mold into a decent human being."

She inquired her musings out loud, "And you adopted this boy into your family?"

He could not camouflage the disappointment in his inflection, "That I did. And it would be a lie to say that I did not have an ounce of regret for doing that. Although my daughter would have disagreed with me..." He shuffled his feet, crossing them together, uncrossing them, and he repeated the motion a few more times. The tension on his face intensified as she discerned his stiff appearance, and she could have sworn she heard his heart palpitate under his skin. He inhaled deeply and confessed, "Berthold was a magic-wielder, and quite proficient at it too. I have seen it with these eyes."

She shifted in her embellished armchair, and her previously relaxed feet were planted firmly on the ground. Suddenly everything made sense. Her spies coming back without a single piece of information, and why Grumman had insisted to keep quiet about his existence. He would have been sent to the magistrate with a rope around his neck, hanged at the first sign of dawn, and subsequently have his entire family executed without trial. After all, Amestris had never been very forgiving of sorcery, a country rooted in conservatism and tradition, unlike other kingdoms surrounding it.

Her mind immediately jumped to the leather-bound tome she previously researched, and she quickly spat out her nagging rumination without caution, "Is he a merman?"

The Chancellor tilted his head with confusion, "Merman?"

She clarified with impatience, "Sea people? Oceanic beast? Aerugonians call them Selkies. Humans with fins? However you'd like to call it."

He trailed an answer with uncertainty, "I… I have never heard of that...In folklores yes, but no..."

"If Berthold is one of those  _mermen_ , then this must explain the reason why you have not been able to track him down. And the reason why you have not found your granddaughter." She sounded overly confident, but her instinct had never betrayed her thus far. Besides, she had done her research properly, employing not only her knowledge on the subject based on her experience in Aerugo but also her society of trusted scholars. She was sure she had been right.

He replied hesitantly, "That could very well be the reason… even if it sounded entirely...  _mythical_..."

She threw him an offended stare as she registered his apprehension. The greying man looked down at the travertine floor, tracing his sight from one stone to the other as he mulled over her conjecture. Even after knowing the Queen Regent for more than half his life, something about her reasoning sparked a good deal of uncertainty within him. He had never seen a single "merman" in his life, and he had lived quite a long life to not have witnessed one with his own eyes. He was also certain that Berthold would have said something if he could transform into this so called oceanic being. Nonetheless, a little voice spoke in his ear, and his doubt began to morph into a possibility as he considered Berthold's secretive personality. He wondered if his daughter even knew about this.

As Grumman continued his endless contemplation, the stationed guards outside the room opened the double door without warning, the weight of the wooden slabs reverberating into the room. The short stature chambermaid entered the space, followed by a flaxen-haired woman dressed in a modest blue gown. Part of her hair was tied into a bun with loose strands covering the length of her upper back, and her hazel eyes glimmered against her fair complexion. Grumman's eyes widened as she strolled into the cold space, her light steps echoing in the sparse yet elegant room. His hands became numb, jaw hanging loose, and his frail body traveled back in time momentarily into his youthful self as a rush of energy coursed through his veins. He gaped with disbelief at the sight in front of him. His daughter had come back. His beloved Tereza, returned from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please kudos/comments/reviews, the good and the bad, 1 word comment, 1 paragraph comment, anything that floats your boat. These would help me become a better writer :)


	9. unfaithful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing/commenting WildSilence023, Beebop, LadyAureliana, ssadropout, Sailordeedlit, Stockholmsyndrom, NPC_MPDG, and Renaia! I love you <3

_The young woman's smile brightened the cloudiest of days, vibrancy matched by the shimmering of her new cerulean gown as she waltzed around with excitement._

" _Happy eighteenth birthday, darling," he had wished her fondly._

" _Thank you, father!" she had said that morning with a cheerful lilt that revitalized his aging body. The laughter that escaped her lips was a contagion at its finest, and he couldn't help himself but laugh along with her. His dearest Tereza, the living embodiment of his pride and joy._

_Her late mother would have been as proud as he was. He could imagine his wife's lips tugging upward in delight, enveloping him with solace unparalleled to anything the world could offer._

_...Until_ _**that man** _ _soiled his perfect daughter with his dirty hands._

His legs weakened as she drew closer, and he could feel the rest of his limbs shake violently as he sketched the similarity of their appearance in his fading recollection. The elegance she exuded was unflinchingly hers, her mannerisms and body movement mirroring those of his daughter's, and for a brief second his mind was granted reprieve.

The Queen Regent instructed her to sit, and the blonde woman reluctantly tucked in her silk gown underneath as she chose to settle at the edge of the seat. The Chancellor followed her motion, straightening his spine against the cushioned chair.

Her anticipating stare was effortlessly displayed, the crow's nest around her eyes visible against her makeup-laden complexion. "What is your name, my dear?"

She listened to the echo of the broad woman's question in the scarce room. She twiddled with the lace of her dress as she replied in a cautious tone, "...Riza, Your Majesty."

The raven-haired woman took note of her apprehension and her eyes softened at the tilt of her head, as did the lilt of her voice, "Very good, child. Is there a family name that goes with that?"

The young woman replied with a growing confidence, "My name is Riza Hawkeye."

The mustached Chancellor sprang up abruptly, his booming voice crowding the room in a scolding tone, "Your name is not Riza Hawkeye! It is Elizabeth Grumman!"

Riza witnessed fury in his veins, and her eyes widened in shock, mouth parting slightly at the startling correction. She stared at the grey-haired man unmoving, and the pounding of her heart started to quickened with each ticking second until it rippled the skin on her chest.

Chris Mustang stepped in with simply a flick of her tongue, tone as composed as the rest of her posture, "Grumman, sit down."

And just like that her spectacled right-hand man unclenched his fists, gingerly lowering himself onto the seat he had previously occupied.

Nevertheless, the effort that was required of him to stay mute was barely sufficient. He looked like a vicious dog as he growled under his breath, teeth clenched to suppress the impulse to speak. Riza observed the bobbing of the man's Adam's apple as he swallowed another bout of outrage. His thick leather boots were tapping impatiently against the white stone floor, hands crushing his knees as he bore his eyes onto the ground.

The Queen Regent resumed her line of questioning, eyeing the young woman with her perceptive vision as she pondered over Grumman's bizarre reaction, "Riza, what brought you to Amestris?"

She replied with hesitance, continuing to pay attention to the Chancellor's conduct, "I came here to find my mother..." She paused, gathering scattered clues with the inhalation of her breath, "She was born in Amestris. Her hair is golden like mine, and her eyes are the color of chestnut. She is likely in her forties, judging by my father's age."

"And your mother's name?"

"I… do not have her name, Your Majesty. I have never had the pleasure of meeting her."

Riza glanced at the two authority figures. While the Queen had been raining down an inquisitive look on her, the man next to her had been sitting restlessly, hardly listening to the description of her mother as though he was familiar with each vital information. His agitation possessed the characteristic of a man who knew more than he let on, and Riza became even more certain with each tap of his foot.

Her hazel eyes displayed determination as she spoke with a suggestive cadence before the monarch could interrogate her further, "You seem to be acquainted with my mother, Lord Chancellor."

George Grumman's blood stilled under his flesh as she addressed him with boldness. He lifted his head up in a slow motion to study the fearless young woman sitting across from him, and he had to suppress the urge to rush to her side as a smile creeped on his face. He chuckled to himself, feeling the drumming of his heart on his sleeve; even her impertinence was identical to hers. He was certain. She was, undoubtedly,  _their_  Elizabeth.

The shaking of his body gradually intensified as he attempted to restrain the joy that was bursting out of his skin. Men were not meant to shed tears, and yet he would gladly spill it and make a fool out of himself if he could gather her in his embrace once more. His glistening eyes finally overflowed, and his mouth quivered as a myriad of emotions wrapped around him. The long-awaited reunion had arrived, and he allowed himself to revel in the pinnacle of happiness. He announced his identity as he tasted salt on his lips, "Elizabeth, I am your grandfather."

Riza sat motionless, the unexpected revelation numbing her body from head to toe, and the voices in the room were becoming muffled. The Queen had spoken  _something_ , she could see by the way her lips move, but she could not make out the words that were leaving her mouth. Instead, she processed Grumman's declaration with the rapid beating of her heart and churn of her stomach.

The commanding woman repeated, "Riza? My dear, are you all right?"

She shook off her mental stupor, "Forgive me, My Queen… I…" She shifted her perplexed sight to Grumman, raising her voice with a disbelief tone, forgoing all politeness, "...Are you sure, sir? Why have I never heard of you? Who is Elizabeth?"

Her grandfather rose from his chair to kneel in front of her. He stabled a hand on his aching knee, looking into her downcast gaze, and he smiled melancholically, "Darling, you look just like your mother, Tereza. She was my daughter. Your given name is Elizabeth Grumman."

Her eyes darted wildly as she scanned his silver irises, seeking an explanation in them, "But… But my father has always called me Riza… And my surname is Hawkeye, not Grumman..."

There was scorn in his scoff, "Berthold told you that, did he? Why am I not surprised. Tell me, love, where did he hide you all these years?"

Her eyes lit up at his name. He knew her father.

A mix of relief and excitement washed over her, and the gleam in her eyes flaunted a hint of giddiness. She wanted to throw her arms around the old man's skinny form, but with the Queen Regent in her audience she didn't dare expose such brusque behavior. Instead, she answered her grandfather with a telling eagerness, "We lived in Shetland Sea, between Aerugo and Creta. I lived with my father my whole life and never knew mother. And I-"

He interjected with the wave of his hand, his tone abrupt, "You lived in Shetland Sea? As in… the ocean?"

The conversation he had with Chris Mustang resurfaced. She had told him about these ocean people and their ability to transform into humans with fins. He stole a glance at the Queen, and the look on her face was calm as though she knew exactly what the young woman was blabbering about.

He trailed his steps back to the comfort of his chair, his brain attempting to wrap around the information.

"Are you a… mermaid?" The word sounded strange on his tongue.

Riza chastised her enthusiasm as she realized how much she had shared so willingly. Roy had advised her to be vigilant about the divulgence of her oceanic form. After all, the reason she was on death row in the first place was because the townspeople had witnessed her changing, and the secrets she kept could very well determine her life and death. They had not tolerated her then, so why would the Chancellor treat her any differently? Would the fact that he was her grandfather make a difference? Someone in such high command as he could easily send her back to the dark and damp prison in the blink of an eye, and she shivered at the thought. She knew, however, that it was no longer feasible to lie.

She formulated her response with a hopeful tone, "No… I am not anymore..."

"What do you mean-"

Riza tried to shift the gnawing subject with a sudden interruption, "Grandfather, where is mother? When can I meet her?"

Grumman's eyes darkened. The only consolation he had over his late daughter was watching his granddaughter bloom into a respectful lady. But even then she had been missing,  _kidnapped_ , and the aging father never fully recovered from both losses. He wallowed in grief once again as he spoke of Tereza, "Elizabeth... Your mother is dead... Has been for the past twenty some years. You were just a child then. Do you not remember?"

Disappointment seeped into her skin, followed by a tinge of regret of not finding her sooner, and she slumped in defeat, "I-I don't remember any of this… Forgive me… I don't understand why I... can't remember…?"

Her grandfather merely shot her a pitiful look.

Riza desperately scrambled through her muddy memory, remembering nothing. She wanted to scream her frustration out loud, and perhaps by hurling the polished brass vase atop the circular table next to her, but her father taught her better than to display such unladylike conduct so she restrained herself by palming her grimacing face.

The silent monarch finally spoke, "You don't remember your grandfather nor your mother. Do you also not remember Roy? The two of you grew up together, raised in this household, given lessons by the same grandmaster."

A flicker of memory invaded her mind.

_The boy advanced at the count of two, poking the tip of his rapier past her buckler and onto her chest, muffled voice shouting in excitement, "I got you!"_

_She removed her helmet in an instant, screaming at him with index finger pointing in frustration, "That's not fair! I haven't called allez!"_

_He mirrored her, removing the headgear to reveal his tousled dark hair underneath, and he smirked at the blonde girl in front of him, "There's no such thing as fair in a real fight. You have to be ready at all times!"_

_The small girl lunged at him in retaliation, swiftly bending down and swiping her foot around his ankle. His slim body thudded onto the ground loudly, and he groaned in pain as he rubbed his bottom. Elizabeth stated with a smug tone, "You have to be ready at all times, Roy. Remember?"_

She crinkled her forehead with a pinch. She couldn't tell if the recollection was real or the fabrication of her imagination. "I… I am not sure… Roy said we have never met before..."

"That's a shame, you two were inseparable," Grumman declared with regret before adding solemnly, "I spoke to Roy after you went missing and he could not remember what happened that day. I thought I was going mad, but I am certain something foul was at play then."

Riza stammered, "I… don't understand…"

Grumman's astute vision drilled into hers, "I am certain your memory was erased along with everyone else's that day, and I think your father had something to do with it."

"Wha-what do you mean?"

Chris Mustang stepped in, placing a gentle hand on Riza's shoulder. She turned her head to face the keen man, reprimanding him, "Grumman, I think that's enough for today." She tilted Riza's face up by the chin, examining her baffled expression, "Dear, you may take your leave. And if you see Roy on the way out, please remind him of tonight's event. He seems to be preoccupied lately."

 

* * *

 

"He will faint when he sees you!" Winry exclaimed, guiding Riza to the mirror in her chamber. The young lady straightened the front of Riza's gown, grinning widely at the beauty before her. "All right, I am going to get ready now. I will be back later."

Winry trotted to the doorway, exiting ever so quietly.

Riza stared at her reflection. A part of her hair was pulled back into a small bun while the rest of the golden tresses overflowed her back. The backless light blue gown was without sleeves, a deep cut down the center of her chest, exposing her breastbone. A portion of the bodice was embellished with detailed gold embroidery matching the color of her hair, wrapping around the back just above her venus dimples. The amount of skin her dress revealed only highlighted her sensuality, and yet the elegant design and muted shade gave her an aura of grace. She wondered if the woman in the mirror was who Elizabeth Grumman was supposed to be.

Her mind jumped to the conversation with the Queen Regent and Chancellor. If they had been speaking the truth, then it would explain why Roy had recurring dreams about her and why everytime she stared at him she would get stuck in a perpetual rumination of his familiarity. Perhaps the Queen's right-hand man, her grandfather, hadn't been too farfetched with his conjecture.

She heard a creak from the door and saw the soon-to-be-king stroll in wearing a maroon high-neck tunic that complemented his fair complexion. His black hair was slicked neatly, bangs no longer obstructing his eyes and instead emphasizing the depth of his dark orbs. The leather jerkin over his shirt hugged his torso snugly, accentuating his broad shoulders and toned body, and she found herself linger her gaze on him.

Roy approached her with an adoring smile, and she intuitively smiled back in return. The handsome man stood an intimate distance behind her. He placed his hand on her naked shoulder, tucking her blonde locks over to one side. He brushed his lips on her bare neck and slipped his arms around her slim figure to wrap her in an affectionate embrace. He whispered in her ear, "You look beautiful, Riza."

She giggled lightly as she leaned her head against him, sliding her soft hands over his and uniting the warmth of their skin, "You are not so bad yourself, Roy."

Riza closed her eyes as their bodies swayed side to side to the tune of evening breeze entering through the window. Roy placed a gentle kiss on her temple, and they reveled in each other's presence, simply enjoying the brief moment before the start of the party.

Roy's hot breath ghosted her cheek as he tightened his hug, "Sorry I haven't visited since this morning. We had a council meeting for the ball. How was your meeting with old man Grumman?"

She loosened herself from his grip as she turned to face him, her chest becoming heavy. But the look in her eyes was of eagerness, and it was confirmed with the tone of her voice, "Roy, did you know he's my grandfather?"

Roy's expression quickly changed to bewilderment, "Your… grandfather? He told me before that he had a granddaughter who was missing, but he never mentioned a Riza before. His granddaughter's name was-"

She interjected smoothly, "Elizabeth Grumman?"

"Right. Elizabeth..."

She sighed wearily, reciting the essence of their dialogue as Roy looked on with anticipation, "He said my name is Elizabeth Grumman. My mother's name was Tereza, his daughter. And apparently, you and I also grew up together here. In this castle..." She cupped his cheek with a tender hand, and she studied the outline of his face, taking note of the uneven folds of his eyelids, noticing the tiny blemish above his lips. He wasn't flawless, but he was perfect in her eyes, and it reignited her frustration that she couldn't remember him more than the past few weeks.

A knock at the door jerked her head towards it, and Roy unwillingly released her to peek through the opening. Winry stood in her gown, ready to accompany Riza to the party as requested by Roy. He gave Winry a berating look for her intrusion, but the persistent young woman lectured him that the party was starting soon, and he relented.

He swung the wooden slab widely, allowing Riza to exit the room only for him to follow after. Riza beamed a smile at the lady-in-waiting, complimenting her dark green dress, and Winry twirled in glee before curtsying out of habit. Winry had previously told Roy she would have kept Riza company even without him asking. The bond the two women had formed since the night Riza restored her voice had only strengthened, and he was glad that she had forged a friendship with someone he regarded as a family member.

Glad though he was, a large part of his mind had been uneasy, constricting his chest with each passing hour. Roy knew precisely why he had felt this way. He had forgotten about it in the few weeks she had been away, but Pinako had been observing, scrutinizing his fast attachment with the beautiful guest, and she respectfully reminded him that his fiancée would be arriving for tonight's ball.

He swallowed thickly as he strung together his breakup speech for Vanessa. He wasn't sure how she would react, considering the fact that the dissolution of their engagement would mean the end of her queenship. But he knew riches, land, and titles were not her drive. She truly was a pleasant companion to be around, amiable and attractive, and he knew she deeply cared for him. Nonetheless, these facts only heightened his guilt, and however brief their courtship might have been, she didn't deserve the treatment he had given her let alone the infidelity he committed without her knowledge.

He shifted his focus to Riza, who was walking arm in arm with Winry in front of him, and he smiled to himself as warmth course through him, temporarily ridding his body of the nagging anxiety. The short period of time she had spent with him filled his days with more happiness than he had ever known in his entire life. He knew he had fallen for her, and he traced back the feeling to the moment he opened his eyes on the sandy shore. Even his disinclination about ascending the throne quickly dissipated at the thought of her by his side, and as much as Roy hated to admit, he was starting to believe in the concept of true love.

They eventually passed the lengthy solar room, and as the three of them exited to the courtyard two able-bodied guards fell into steps behind Roy. He figured they must have been assigned to him by the ever watchful Chancellor, especially now that he was back, and Roy had to remind himself to get used to the sudden intrusion when the time came.

As they strided through the gatehouse, a womanly figure in the distance raised her arm in a small wave, catching the two women's attention. The darkish-haired female stood less than a hundred feet away in a stylish-looking gown, and Roy could barely make out the shade of amber adorning the overflowing sleeves down the length of her dress. He narrowed his eyes on the fast approaching woman, directing his focus to her face as he attempted to recognize her. The sun was setting as fast as the woman's gait, and he was unable to identify her until it was too late.

The outline of the woman formed into a familiar brunette. She slung her arms around Roy, shoving her body into his embrace in an almost forceful manner. The high-pitched voice was unmistakably hers, and Roy shivered in his spot as Riza and Winry watched from a foot away.

"Roy! Have you missed me?" she asked in a cheerful tone. Her supple lips were ready to peck him on his cheek, but he avoided it by backing away reflexively.

The tone of his voice couldn't conceal the surprise in seeing her, "...Vanessa! How... are you?"

Lady Vanessa tightened her grip on his arm as she swiftly dragged his reluctant body away from where the two women stood, Roy's two guards followed in step after them. The alluring woman twisted her head to look back at the young lady-in-waiting in a last minute courtesy, shouting to her with delight as she strutted away, "Winry, I will be borrowing Roy for the rest of the night!"

"Y-yes, my lady!" Winry hesitantly shouted back to the elated woman, knees bending into a curtsy.

Riza watched the brunette and Roy leave in confusion, her brows furrowing in puzzlement. She slowly craned her neck to face Winry, inquiring with a curious timbre, "Winry, who is that?"

Winry gulped as she registered her question, sweat slowly forming on her hairline. She realized there was no point in hiding the fact. After all, it was common knowledge and everyone except Riza, who had been as clueless as a stray puppy, had known of their relationship. The blonde youth clasped Riza's hands gingerly, directing her nervous eyes onto the ground before looking back up at the inquiring woman. Her throat suddenly felt itchy, and she croaked her reply with apprehension, "That's Lady Vanessa… Roy's fiancée."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope that wasn't too rough. Please let me know what you think! :D


	10. apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I originally planned to have a total of 14 chapters for this series, but decided to add 2 more to make room for another smut chapter towards the end (trying to put that Mature/Explicit rating to good use here lol) and an epilogue for a total of 16. From here on out, we'll delve further into Riza's backstory and how they tie in to the overall story. I hope you enjoy!

No, she wasn't here.

She wasn't there either...

He jerked his head to the right and saw curls of golden hair in the corner of his eyes.

The woman twisted her torso, facing the flamboyant man standing next to the loud orchestra, and Roy frowned as he stole a glimpse of her unfamiliar features.

He scanned the resplendent great hall, flashing through faces by the flickering candles in each corner and surveying the floor for blue gowns against the oriental rugs blanketing the travertine stones. He glanced at the ladies and gentlemen performing  _bassedanse_  next to him with ceremonious dignity, and he quickly flicked his sight to the abundant selections of delectable food and wines on the other side of the room for familiar features, sinking deeper into misery as he had yet caught a sight of her.

The lively music and the view of his guests dancing were becoming bothersome, looking more and more like a wild circus performance, and his required presence only flickered an ire towards the ill-timed event as the veins on his forehead popped on his skin.

Even the beautiful woman in his arms couldn't alleviate his bubbling irritation, and she took note of it as she inquired with a puzzled expression, "Roy, are you alright?"

Roy didn't answer as he descended further into his musings. He merely glided on the dance floor, extending his arm as she grabbed hold of it and taking a step left as she pushed him along, like a puppet controlled by its master, but her guidance was for naught. Much to her annoyance, he was not following the repertory of steps, gliding to the left again instead of to the right, and the brunette finally snarled at his inattentiveness, "ROY!"

"Wh-what?" His neck abruptly twisted to the sound of the snapping voice, darting eyes focused onto his fussing fiancée, and he could clearly see the displeasure on her face.

"What are you doing?! You were supposed to step right!"

"Sorry… I'm…" He lost himself in the room for the hundredth time in the night. "I'm..."

She removed her arms from his and crossed it over her chest, the sound of her incessant foot tapping was absorbed by the carpeted ground, but it was her dramatic demeanor that captured the attendees' attention as they watched the quarrel with amusement, eyes so large like owls in the night. He shivered as scrutiny fell on him. He supposed they craved for tragedies such as this in their dull lives, considering how fast they flocked to the weekly performance at New Optain Theater, but this fact didn't make him any less uneasy. Roy eventually directed his sight back onto the demanding woman.

"Sorry, Vanessa… Could we… could we speak for a moment?"

"Alright…" she muttered with a huff.

He gulped, rubbing his perspiring hands behind his back.

Roy gently guided her by the shoulder towards the balcony and each step he took escalated his anxiety of what's to come. The moisture in his hand was no longer bothering him as much as his palpitating heart. He pulled the strings to the translucent curtains, and while he knew it wouldn't drown out much of their imminent conversation, he took solace in the fact that it would provide them a semblance of privacy from the prying guests.

He shuffled his feet and looked at her dead center with racing heart, feeling like a nervous pheasant in a hunting game. He croaked her name, "Vanessa..."

She wrinkled her brows, the grey violet of her irises pierced into his dark ones, and she replied with an aggravating tone, "Yes, Roy."

He swallowed thickly.

The anger on her face dissipated as she studied his uneasiness, and she softened her tone, "Roy, you are acting very unusual. What is going on?"

He prayed for everything to end well, deciding that the sooner he let it out the sooner he would feel relieved. He held his breath, blurting out his intention in haste, "Vanessa, I want to call off our engagement."

She shook her head, ascertaining his plea and ensuring that she had heard correctly, "Wait, you want to  _cancel_ …?"

He sighed heavily but stared at her with determination, "I am truly sorry. Please forgive me."

The gleam in her eyes disappeared as she shut her lids tightly. Her animated hands fell on either side, and she instinctively shook her head as she painted disbelief across her features. "Roy, now you are being an idiot. What… what would happen to your ascension?"

He released the breath he had been holding, but his unwavering appearance showed confidently. "Vanessa, please let me explain..."

She interrupted in a confused tone, raising her voice, "Did… Did the Queen Regent request this?"

He uttered with a tinge of fear in his lilt, "...No, the request is my own."

"Roy, our wedding is planned for next month! Invitations have been sent out! What are you thinking?!"

But he was steadfast with his commitment to end it. "I am very sorry. I never expected you to accept my apology, but I beg you to please,  _please_  release me from our betrothal."

She took a step back, irked. "May I ask  _why_?"

"I…"  _I am in love with a beautiful woman named Riza who also happened to be my savior and there's nothing you can do about it_. Say it _._  "I am in love with-"

But it seemed as though Vanessa had anticipated his very response, and she interjected with a sharp intonation, "Do  _NOT_  say her name."

Roy became as quiet as a mouse, sensing the hostile atmosphere as his fiancée creased the bridge of her nose in anger. Her appearance stiffened as she whispered a familiar name under her breath, "Her name is Elizabeth, am I correct?"

He jogged his memory to the conversation Riza had with the Chancellor and how he had referred to her as Elizabeth. He wondered how the  _fuck_  Vanessa would know to say that name. The cool autumn night couldn't prevent him from perspiring as a drop of sweat rolled down his temple, and the idle chatter of his guests began to dampen in his ears as his perplexed mind delved into the missing recollection. When did he tell her about Elizabeth? He had only learned of Riza's given name earlier tonight.

"H-how do you know her name...?"

"Roy," she cupped his cheeks, directing his shifting eyes to focus on her, "The last few nights before my leave you were mumbling in your sleep... You kept repeating  _her_  name..."

"I-I did?"

She released her hands. "Yes, and not quietly either…"

"Vanessa, why didn't you tell me?"

"I had wondered who she was, but I didn't think much of it at the time. But when I saw you earlier with one of the guests... the woman with the golden hair?" she chuckled, "I had no clue if she was some duchess or countess or whatever she was, but she definitely caught my attention. She was beautiful... And judging by the way you eluded my kiss and why you have been so distracted the whole night… Well, I suppose I am just speculating here…"

"No, you are absolutely correct with your speculations..." The depth of his orbs was full of fondness coupled with the most sincere smile, and Vanessa knew then that the woman was indeed  _the_  Elizabeth. Roy resumed his speech with a slight chuckle, "It seems I haven't been able to think about anything else but her lately."

She shot him a perplexed look, "Who is she?"

"We… were... childhood friends… recently reunited..." he answered with hesitance, unsure of how to refer to their relationship.

"Do… do you love her?" A part of her was undecided if she preferred to be in the dark with his answer.

The same genuine smile adorned his lips, "I love her. With all my heart."

She had expected to feel a stab in the chest, but the dreaded confirmation surprisingly did not pain her as much as it disappointed her. It was almost as though she had expected it to happen, because the only focus Roy had since the beginning of their engagement was finding the one who had rescued him. Vanessa had thought he imagined things when he told his tale of a woman who had fins and how she had pulled him out of the water. Vanessa insisted then that he had dreamed it all, and the only reason he was alive was because he swam to shore with the last of his energy, blurring his memory in exhaustion. His acquiescence to her explanation had ceased her relentless teasing of his ridiculous story, but she regretted not paying heed to his continuous search for her.

Descended from a line of nobility who had forged mutual alliance with the Queen Regent, Vanessa could proudly say that she had picked up a trick or two for reading people from the cunning woman herself. What that Elizabeth woman had on her face was a look of horror when she stole Roy away from her, but what felt worse was that Roy's expression had matched hers, unwilling to vacate her side and leaving simply because Vanessa had dragged him across the courtyard.

All facts considered, Vanessa knew she had lost. The time he and Vanessa had spent together during their adolescent years clearly did not make a dent in his feelings, unlike hers. She scoffed as she reflected on the last few years courting this handsome and admirable man, and how happy she had been when he finally decided to propose to her. He had seek consolation after his father's death, and by fate Vanessa happened to be in the right place at the right time. He had spoken of his woes and conflicted sentiment regarding the kingdom's thousand-year old law that would prevent him from ascending unless he took a wife, and Vanessa presented him the easy way out when she offered herself for the position. She knew he thought her to be physically attractive from his compliments and figured that in time he would eventually grow to love her. But perhaps she had been much too optimistic with her wish. And now that he had found the woman of his dreams, it would be too unkind for Vanessa to refuse his request.

She gazed into Roy's hopeful eyes and stiffened her hand as adrenaline coursed through her. The anger that she felt for a brief moment had passed, replaced by a mix of sadness and relief. She lifted her arm, and with one swift motion she slapped his cheek hard, eliciting a startled gasp from his mouth.

"Va-Vanessa?"

" _That_  is for breaking my heart." But then the corners of her mouth pulled into a grin as she suppressed tears from spilling. She inhaled deeply before speaking with the most honest tone she could muster, "But, I wish you and Elizabeth well... because you are one of the most wonderful and kind hearted men I have ever met... and you deserve all the happiness this world can offer."

She grabbed his hand and uncurled his fingers. She easily removed the glittering, white diamond on her ring finger and placed the exquisite jewelry onto his palm, closing his clammy hand over it. She snorted quietly when she felt a sting on her nose, and she knew she only had a few moment before the liquid in her eyes would finally cascade down her face. She looked up at him, uttering her farewell wistfully, "Goodbye, Roy."

The smile she presented him was full of grief and with it she strutted into the boisterous party, blending into the crowd before Roy had a chance to take a last glimpse of her back.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Liar_. He was a liar, and damn good at it, too.

The cold stone bench sent a shiver up her spine as she arched her back. She bent her limp neck, the weight of her head pulling her gaze down towards the ground, and she saw raindrop fall on the grey concrete. She looked up expectantly for heavy clouds and scatter of rain, but the sky was clear and the stars bright without an overcast. As she observed the moon she felt liquid roll down her cheeks, prompting her to brush a finger over unbidden tears.

She chuckled to herself with disbelief. She had only known him for a short time, and yet the grief that overcame her felt as though she had known him for a lifetime. Well, she  _had_  known him a lifetime if her grandfather's story was to be believed. She chastised her stupidity for giving up her  _fucking_  oceanic form to be with him, and she knew now the only thing left for her to do was to disappear somewhere where no one would recognize her. Perhaps she could cross the kingdom to Aerugo where magic was more tolerated...

She began to plan her apology to her father for leaving without permission, for breaking her vow to never set foot on human land, for falling in love with a man who were not one of their kind… That was, if she would ever see her father again. Without her ability to change she had no idea how she could reach him.

Riza often pondered about her father's condition. In the few weeks before she left he had been fitted with bouts of cough, worsening as each day passed. He had reassured her that the underwater volcanic activity had affected his lungs, but Riza didn't believe him in the slightest. Nevertheless, she still had the guts to leave him to his own devices, letting him fend for himself, and now that she had time to forgive his failings as a father she felt guilt flood her body.

But her journey to find her mother wasn't entirely fruitless. She learned a few things about Amestris, the one kingdom her father had forbade her from visiting, and after much consideration it really wasn't as horrible as he made it out to be. She also met her grandfather, alive and well and in a high ranking position within the realm. She also learned the truth about her mother, well  _some_ truths, considering she was still mostly in the dark about how her father had met her or what occurred between her birth to now. She scrunched her brows as she contemplated,  _what did happen between her parents?_

"Elizabeth?"

She twisted her head to the sound of approaching footsteps to her right, seeing a glimpse of handlebar mustache and round glasses.

The man spoke with regality, "Why are you out here, my dear? Are you not enjoying the party?"

She immediately stood up as she heeded Winry's advice to genuflect to the royal family and anyone of superior rank. She swept one foot behind her, bending her knee as she bowed deeply to the old man before her, "Lord Chancellor."

"Now now Elizabeth, stand up. You don't have to do that in front of me." He gently lifted her up by the arm, only to instruct her to settle herself back down moments later. She gingerly lowered herself and he followed by taking the opposite end of the bench.

"And you can call me grandfather." He showed her a toothy grin.

She twisted a smile at his antics, letting out a reticent laugh.

"Where is Roy? I expected him to be with you. The Queen told me he's been attached to you at the hip."

Riza could feel her breath quickened as heat creeped up her face, but the dwindling grief returned with a vengeance. She wasn't sure if it was appropriate to speak her frustration so passionately to one of the country's leaders, but she supposed she could inquire further about what had been cut short of their conversation from earlier this morning. She tried to speak as calmly as she could but ultimately failed as she snapped with conspicuous irritation, "I don't know why you expect him to be with me. He's with Lady Vanessa, his  _fiancée._ "

He hummed to himself, "Ah right. She was invited to the ball, of course, and due to stay for a few days afterwards… I take it that careless boy didn't tell you about her..."

"No, he didn't! And I was stupid enough to think he…"  _loves me._  She ceased her thought in an instant and was glad her mouth didn't betray her by blabbering more than it needed to. She continued to speak with intensity, unable to tone down the biting anger, "I only have myself to blame… I should have questioned it much earlier."

George Grumman studied his granddaughter's fiery form. The many years of living and carrying on in the company of cold-hearted dignitaries only meant that he had been out of touch with the art of consolation. But that didn't mean he couldn't sympathize. And after being reunited with his last living relative, he knew he wanted to shower her with reassurance. Except that Vanessa was none of his business. She had been Roy's choice, and as much as he wanted Roy to break up with her (and he was sure he could convince him to do it), the old mentor understood that he should not be barging in on a monarch's personal life. Grumman, however, was almost sure that his granddaughter's sudden appearance would instill some doubt in Roy's decision, similar to the days preceding his proposal. From what his aging brain could remember, little Roy and Elizabeth had made a vow of marriage to each other, even when he had waved it off then as a child's innocent promise.

His worried eyes latched onto the red markings on her back, covered partially by her wavy locks. He didn't remember it being there when he cared for her many years ago. Curiosity enveloped him, and he inquired with a frank tone, "Elizabeth, what is that on your back?"

"My back?" She tilted her head slightly. The gears in the head clicked and she draped her hair over to one side, displaying the entirety of her back to him, "I have had these markings for as long as I can remember… I don't know what they mean, but they look beautiful, don't they grandfather?"

Grumman processed the information carefully, prodding through his senile brain for a time when he recalled seeing her inked skin. He couldn't remember it existing in the past, and he was certain of this fact. "Elizabeth, those symbols were not always there. You didn't have it when you were a child, and I am quite sure."

Riza shot him an inquisitive look. "Then where did they come from? My father didn't etch this on my back… Not from what I can recall."

He sensed uncontrollable anger rush through his worn body at the thought of Berthold. But after meeting his granddaughter again, he had been determined to forgive his unappreciative ward, provided that Elizabeth remained in the kingdom under his protection. He realized forgiveness wasn't his forte, but for the sake of his daughter's last wish, he was willing to take the chance. He also did love the boy for a time when he lived with them, before the  _incident_  happened, before sickness consumed his Tereza.

The old man spoke with a composed lilt, stifling his anger, "I am not going to believe that so easily given Berthold's precarious nature, but I would like to speak to your father again if you will let me."

She flashed him a confused expression, "Of course I will let you, grandfather. Why would I not?"

Her grandfather faced her with sunken eyes, a tinge of remorse shown on the surface of his light irises as he announced with a dignified tone, "Well my dear, that's because I separated your parents when your mother was pregnant with you."

Riza's inquiring expression quickly turned into one of shock. The breezy night no longer felt cold as her body filled itself with heat, fingers digging crescent moons into her palm. "What?!"

In her moment of rage, she felt a strange sensation. She chucked it as the newly learned information, but the longer she attuned herself to it, the more familiar the feeling became. The cool air that had been blowing past them turned violent as a gust of strong wind forcefully pushed their bodies backwards, and Riza only realized then what was happening. She had sensed it many times before.

She commanded the Chancellor, abandoning formalities, "I will ask you about it later, but right now I need you to go inside and take cover!"

They rushed inside the castle through one of the smaller entrances, stepping into the rampaging great hall as darkness sealed its guests within the stony expanse. The candles that had illuminated the space had been snuffed, piercing screams and quick footsteps abound as the guests searched for an exit, and Riza could sense fear loom at the edge of her skin.

Footsteps of soldiers approached from the garden and immediately concrete walls appeared from in between the gaps, slicing the beam of moonlight, barricading the large hall into a prison of pitch black. She had dragged her grandfather into a rather dangerous place without realizing and now it was too late to escape. Her heart began to race at the thought of Roy, Winry, and Pinako, but within the confines of chaos all she could do was pray for their safety. She gripped her grandfather's hand tighter, feeling sweat form on his palm and the quickening of his heart on his wrist.

In the madness of it all she heard a thundering noise similar to a shattering glass, followed by a shriek, and in an instant the room glowed dim as the chandelier candles in the middle of the ballroom was lit. At the main doorway stood a lanky figure with matted, yellow hair. His friar-looking garb was filthy and torn by the hem, exuding a sense of barbarity. The expression he wore displayed malice, and Riza could hear loud gasps in the room as he lifted his bony fingers into the sky, snapping them together to shoot flame at the draping Amestrisian flag on the opposite end of the hall.

As fire engulfed the material, the flare temporarily brightened the room, providing Riza with a healthy vision of the hostile man before her. Her nagging fear was confirmed as she materialized a familiar face. The man sensed her presence, and he nonchalantly glided through the carpeted floor, standing several feet in front of her.

"Riza!" she heard Roy's valiant shout from behind the man. He unsheathed the sword from his buckle, but he abruptly dropped it onto the ground with a loud hiss as the sorcerer flicked his finger to inject heat into the metal object.

Riza's mouth parted in reflex, hands trembling as she instinctively shoved her grandfather to stand behind her. She shouted at him with terror in her eyes, "Father! What are you doing here?!"

The pale man ignored her yell and instead glanced at the old man she was shielding. He pointed his index finger at him, bellowing furiously, "Grumman, where are you hiding her?! Where is Tereza?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I just realized Roy made two women cry over him in 1 chapter and I feel terrible... but I would still love it if you let me know what you think lol. Thanks for reading!


	11. fathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reviewing/commenting the last couple of chapters antimoony, Renaia, fall0utjosie, blazedancer1997, A Passing Housewife, alltheworldsinmyhead, WildSilence023, ssadropout, Sailordeedlit, Nuzha, Sssk611, and one Guest. Honestly, you guys keep me going and I'm so touched by each and every word :').

The simple presence of a gaunt man had incited such horrifying screams and suspenseful gasps. Granted, the man had turned their symbol of pride and glory to ash with only a snap of his fingers. Gone was the Amestrisian banner triumphantly hung over the fire pit. The Mustang's royal coat of arms followed soon after, joining its burned comrade on the cold, sooty floor. But to Riza Hawkeye, his action was entirely unanticipated. The reticent aquatic man had always minded his own business, many even considered the man to be neglectful of his daughter at times, but violent tendencies and uncontrollable rage were the furthest characteristics from every  _merperson_ 's mind.

The man in front of her was not her father but someone she had just met tonight. The flame that danced in his eyes and the explosive passion for destroying his own relation were foreign to her, but solely by appearance, the man was known as Berthold Hawkeye. Every one of his elongated finger and ghostly pale tone, all of his pile of flaxen hair and beaked nose.

"Child, do you know  _WHO_  you are protecting?!" His voice was booming, and it was rarely that way.

Frantic great hall turned funereal in an instant, intensified by ringing silence and dwindling light of five large candles hanging high and center. The ball guests had plastered themselves against the wall, some cowering in fear as they watched with hopeless eyes, but most prefer to quietly claw at the claylike barrier obstructing them from freedom.

His daughter was not a magic wielder like he, or at least she  _chose_  not to be. But it was one of these desperate moments that would arouse that regret within her, especially knowing this was a fight where  _he_  would emerge victorious. Nevertheless, it didn't stop the brave soul in her to beg in despair, "Father,  _please_. Please don't hurt grandfather!"

The sorcerer's deranged eyes bulged out of its sockets as he clenched his fists towards her. "Why are you shielding that man?! Don't you know what he did to your mother and I?!"

The Chancellor's lips quivered ever so slightly as he readied a counter, but with a touch of his granddaughter's hand the old man understood his role to be silent, entrusting his life to the unflinching woman.

She tried to control the quake in her lilt, collecting her scattered self, "Father... Please listen to me. Nothing good will come out of avenging mother..."

" _Avenging her?_  Riza,  _that man_  is hiding your mother!"

"What are you talking about? Mother is dead..."

But she only seemed to exacerbate his fury. "How dare you believe that man over me!"

In the corner of her eyes she saw Roy stealthily glide behind a row of shuddering long gowns and leather tunics, approaching the stage in which she stood, sharp blades glinting in the candlelight. He shot her a quick glance, and she immediately understood what she must do. Her job was to keep her father distracted.

"Grandfather had been nothing but kind to me. He told me about mother more than you ever told me..."

"And you drink it all in without a doubt?! I wouldn't trust the liar so easily…"

But her distraction was for naught, because her perceptive father reacted so swiftly it was as though he grew eyes in the back of his head. Berthold didn't even move an inch but merely lifted a hand, snapping his fingers almost gracefully to inflict searing wounds on both of Roy's palms.

Frightful gasps resounded for a brief moment as the noblemen and women watched with terror.

" _Ahh!_ " But it was the prince's painful shriek as a strip of his flesh sizzled, followed by the sound of daggers clattering to the ground, that stung Riza in the ears. She started breathing erratically as she watched the man she loved clutch his hands over his belly, protruding his back and grunting under his ragged breath as he attempted to alleviate the burn.

She directed a stupefied gaze at her father, disbelief etched on the rest of her features. She lost her voice for a brief moment when fear lodged in her throat, and her befuddled mind decidedly left the next course of action to fate as she simply stood there in silence, jaw hanging loosely.

Berthold's fury no longer seethed out of his pores, but his composed tone was distinctly a thousand times more terrifying, "You  _don't know_  your grandfather. You were only a child when I took you away from here… I know your mother was alive  _and_  well when I left this godforsaken place."

Her appearance furrowed into uncertainty, and she found her croaky voice. "Wh-what did you say? You…  _abducted_  me...?"

He raised his voice yet again, but this time Riza detected a slight exhaustion about it, sounding rough and harsh as he suppressed a telling cough, "Your grandfather is a liar... Tereza is here…" The corner of his mouth tugged upward in a wicked smile. "Riza dear, I'm tired... And if you've quite finished, I have a rather important matter to tend to."

It was a surprise the haggard sorcerer had the energy left to conflagrate the rest of darkened great hall, setting linen fabric draped over banquet tables alight before pressing his palms tightly together to erect yet another wall that smelled like fresh, wet soil surrounding the key performers in tonight's event.

Though the towering barrier had ensured no telltale sign of escape for the four of them, Riza was partly relief to find that the guests were now former captives in Berthold's personal mission. With that worry out of her mind, she flicked her eyes to Roy, observing how his pounding heart was visible from the way he heaved, injured hands still clasped close to his body. She knew words could not engage her impatient father any longer, and as the bony man stood with burning vengeance in front of her, he chanted an indiscernible phrase, edging her toward a precipice.

The inflection of his breathy incantation was rising and falling like a liturgical hymn, so soothing that the man she was concealing rose from behind her willingly, approaching the grinning magic wielder. George Grumman's eyes were lifeless, and he became a baited undead as he dragged his legs step by step toward her father. Without any warning, Riza flung her arms over the old man, halting him from further venturing towards his death, baring her naked back to her father.

Berthold Hawkeye lost control over his emotions as he watched his daughter protect his spellbound target. The next few minutes seemed to have lasted a mere second as the man roared in anger, fingers snapping yet again, but this time Riza took the brunt of his fury as she felt indescribable pain singed her upper back, defacing a part of her inked skin.

"RIZA!" Roy rushed to her side, pain on his hands completely forgotten, and he knelt down next to her as she winced from the burning sensation.

The next series of actions was a blur, but Riza thought she had heard her father scream her name with concern as her body fell limply to the ground. While her father had never cared much for her undertaking, allowing the adolescent a free reign of her life, his worried shout was perhaps  _the_  affirmation that the man truly did care for his daughter. But as she thudded on the hard surface, everything slowed down one hundred times over, shouts of distress were muffled and echoing in the dark, and all she wanted to do was let her consciousness take over, letting the stinging pain on her back become a ghost of the past.

She heard a brief fragment of that familiar timbre as her lids droop, a whiff of subtle sandalwood scent, and her sagging torso was quickly propped up against taut muscle. "No, no,  _no_ … Riza… Stay awake!"

Her heavy eyes shot open momentarily as she recalled her grandfather's fugue state. She clutched onto his shirt, grimacing when she felt tenderness on her shoulder. "Roy… My father… don't let him hurt… grandfather..."

Roy had pivoted all of his attention onto the woman in his arms that he took no note of the Chancellor's fleeting glimpse. When he looked up the old man was gone and so was his abductor, leaving them as the only two people within the enclosed space.

"I-I'm sorry, Riza... Your father took him and disappeared…"

"Hold on just a bit longer…" His features were full of fear, and he swiftly tousled her golden locks over to one side and turning her over slowly to unveil her whole back, seeing how the angry welts on her shoulder blade had crackled, looking like it was festering.

Roy glanced around for water, for alcohol, for  _anything_  to lessen her pain. "Shit… shit,  _shit_!" He became frustrated as he observed her rapid breathing and pained expression. But he felt the earth shake, and the barricade imprisoning the couple slowly crumbled, rippling the ground as it collapsed. Moonbeam sliced through the wall little by little to reveal a vacant, torn hall, the smell of doused campfire permeated the air. The panicking guests had emptied the hall save for the Queen Regent and Winry, along with a row of foot soldiers and healers.

Roy redirected his sight onto the woman in his arms, seeing her lulled expression. "Riza...?  _Riza_! Stay awake!"

Chris Mustang shouted a haste command at the healers, and the harried men quickly rushed to their side, one of them propping Riza sideways so he could take a good look at her wounds.

While the head doctor addressed Riza, his helper hurried to the prince, skimming his trained eyes over his form to check for lacerations. Roy showed him his charred hands, and he quickly ventured into his medicine pouch full of an array of bottles. The lanky apprentice plucked a small container from within, and Roy scowled from the foul smelling ointment as he poured the dark liquid over the burns. The prince shot a glance at the grimacing woman several feet away from him, and the apprentice took note of his impatience as he methodically dressed his wounds, swathing gauze over both hands in as quick as a matter of second.

Roy dashed to her, gently swiping the long bangs sticking onto her forehead, caressing her face as he wiped nervous sweat from her skin. His lips curved into a small smile when she opened her eyes, and she returned him a weak smile. But the meticulous healer patching her burns seemed rather concerned from the way he pursed his lips, staring at the scarred flesh with an apprehensive look on his face. Roy took a note of it and anxiety brewed in his stomach, but he darted his sight back onto the woman he adored, attempting to comfort her with a whimper. "Riza... just hold on a little bit longer… The healer's almost done..."

She met his glistening eyes. "Roy, are your hands... alright?"

He nodded and chastised her behavior, "Don't worry about me… worry about yourself first."

Winry knelt beside her, grabbing Riza's quivering hand, fretting over the woman with a tear in her eye. "Oh Riza... are you alright?"

The medicine man eyed the prince once more as he lined wet cloth over her wounds, flicking a furtive glance in his direction so he could pull him into a private conversation. Roy dragged his feet across the room with the healer trudging right behind him. "Your Majesty, we cleaned the wounds as much as we could, but I am afraid it is too deep and would eventually suppurate…"

Roy swiftly grabbed him by the collar, rage in his tone, "There has to be something you can do!"

Winry heard the prince's troubling shout, and the young blonde woman sprang up from her seat, running to Roy and planting a firm hand on his shoulder, giving him a knowing look. "Roy... You and Riza should wait here while I fetch for  _help_."

His eyes glimmered with hope as he discerned the meaning behind her word. "...Edward and Alphonse?"

Winry nodded, determination in her eyes.

"Be careful, and hurry back!"

 

* * *

 

 

He could imagine the way she grimaced from suppressing the pain as their ride galloped full speed, jolting their bodies in every direction. She tightened her grip on him as the horse jumped over fallen branch, wincing against his back as cold breeze brushed the sensitive spot. "Riza, I still think you should have stayed back and rest…"

The biting wind continued to dishevel black and blonde locks as their charger closed its distance from the riders in front of them.

There's annoyance in her tone. "Roy, I'm fine… Alphonse is a skilled healer. Besides, this is  _my_  family affair.  _You_  should have stayed back and worry about your fiancée..."

An ashamed expression crossed his face as he tightened the reins in his hand, feeling a fleeting sting on his hands that was slowly eclipsed by remorse. "Riza… I'm sorry about Vanessa. I should have told you sooner…"

Her breath hitched for a second, but the fact that he had spent an ample amount of time with her without providing a single hint of his fiancée, coupled with the things they had said  _and_  done, irked her to no end. "Let's not speak of that right now... We have more important matters to take care of."

Roy perceived her blatant anger, but before he could say anything further the young riders in front of him stopped abruptly, prompting the soon-to-be-king to pull the reins on his own horse to a screeching halt.

"Why are we stopping?"

The golden-haired brothers leapt from their mount. The younger one responded to Roy with a determined gaze, "The sorcerer's nearby. Brother and I can feel it."

The older one darted a suspicious glance among the skeletal boughs as he grabbed the flickering lantern from his brother's hand. The braided-haired man's aimless meandering finally oriented in front of an inconspicuous dirt path, like a compass aligning in one certain cardinal direction, and he confidently stated, "He's this way."

Roy offered his hands to Riza as she lowered herself from the horse, but she disregarded his help as she jumped off, waving off his existence and choosing instead to guide the animal into Alphonse's hand as the young man secured their straps to a solid branch. The prince sighed in defeat, letting his arms drape weakly to his side, and his heart instantly constricted as he contemplated on ways he could do to earn her trust back.

The moon and the stars were an unreliable source of light as redwood trees towered over them, encasing the quartet like in a snow globe. Instead, they listened to the sound of gravel crunching along the dirt path and relied on Edward's attunement to magical energy to lead the way.

Howls in the distance and hoots from above accompanied their trek as they threaded the thick of the woods. Roy's hand instinctively found hers, but the colliding heat from their skin lasted merely a second as she promptly withdrew her hand. His heart sank in dejection, but he supposed her treatment of him was altogether fair, considering the suffering he put her through.

Moonlight pierced through a clearing in the woods, illuminating the sandy ground to show a broken trail of footsteps among patchy grass. In a way it reassured them, a crystal clear confirmation that someone had recently passed by this far side of the kingdom. But the streak of light not only affirmed their direction but also brightened their vision all around, casting visibility on a pile of mossy stones nestled between ancient tree trunks.

The image immediately invoked a string of memories in Roy's restless mind, and his face crinkled with doubt, "Hmm… I feel like I've been here before…"

Alphonse bent down on one knee to shine his lantern on the dry soil, tracing the steps of the magician before adding to the prince's musing, "Are you certain? This area is quite far from the castle…"

"But this area is still within the Chancellor's estate… and I know my aunt had brought me here at least once when I was younger..." Roy approached the boulder, and while its pyramid shape and size would catch the attention of hunters and the like, there was nothing assuming about it. Except Roy was becoming even more certain that he had been there as he caught sight of a meticulous carving of the letter 'T' embedded in the stone.

"What are  _you_  doing? You're straying from our path!" Edward yelled, unable to conceal the impatience in his lilt.

"Sorry, this will only take a moment... I remember there was something about it…" Roy peeled the moss coverings, tearing the damp plants haphazardly from the rock. And as he revealed more and more of the smooth surface, another intricate carving came into view, eliciting a triumphant smirk in the corner of his lips. "Look here. A salamander etching. The same one on Riza's back… I came across this by chance when I played around the area..."

Riza muttered under her breath as she joined him on his discovery. "You sure travel far from the Chancellor's mansion…"

"I was not the most ah-  _obedient_  child…" She stole a furtive glance at the handsome man, meeting his mischievous glint briefly, sensing a flutter in her stomach. Roy interrupted quickly, "Alright, let's get back on our path…"

The older brother merely shushed the prince while he continued to study the salamander marking with keen eyes, humming to himself before sharing the knowledge he possessed on the symbol. "Salamander means his specialty is fire. It will be tough for us… Fire magic is one of the strongest and no one has wielded it for hundreds of years…"

But the young man's spiel was interrupted as blinding light appeared from within the forest, drawing their undivided attention onto the source. As they neared the end of the winding pathway in haste, a tiny chalet materialized, its front door flung wide open yet giving very little vision of the situation inside.

Wariness emerged from the wrinkle of lines on their faces, but Riza ignored her rationale as she rushed to the landing, one hand clutching over her pained shoulder, turning a blind eye on the imminent danger ahead. Roy chased after her, invading her personal space as he caught her swinging arm. But the sight within the stony chalet evoked both horror and consolation.

They were glad that her grandfather was alive, but he stood so still, expressionless and emotionless. His stance was grounded and posture aligned so unwaveringly straight he could pass for a garden sculpture. The only subtle hint that he was a living human being was the rise and fall of his breathing and the heat that radiated from his skin. His silver eyes bulged out of his sockets uncomfortably, and seeing that his hands nor legs weren't bound by a rope meant that he was still under the same enchantment that was casted hours ago.

Riza twisted her head to the right, sensing a malicious aura.

Berthold emerged from the shadowy corner of the room, a thin knife in his hand, glinting under the moonlight shining through the open window. He hacked violently and sucked in his breath in quick succession, wheezing and gasping with exertion, looking like he was fighting to prolong whatever was left of his dear life. The man appeared to have been crying, his glistening eyes were red and surrounded by swollen rings, precipitating a line of questions in Riza's startled mind. The longer he gasped for breath the more dilated his pupils became, and as he wildly coughed into the air, his trembling mouth twisted into a wide, maniacal grin. Riza could have sworn it wasn't her father standing in front of her.

The atmosphere was tense, and the speech that lingered at the tip of their tongues were swallowed by the maddening scene before them. Riza noticed that her father's palm was completely soaked in his own coughed blood as he smeared it on his filthy linen garb. Riza had an inkling that the red, thick fluid was from the same malady that he had suffered prior to her leave. She felt sourness in her stomach, acid building up, bile rising to her throat, and she found her lips started quivering. Heartbroken tears threatened to spill from the corner of her eyes as she watched his fragile figure struggled to maintain an even breath, expecting him to come tumbling down even with a slight movement.

Berthold dragged a step forward, slight screeching on the uneven ground, and everyone became as stiff as a board.

Roy was the first to muster courage, approaching the conjuror with cautious hands in the air. "Let the Chancellor go…"

But the alarming gasp leaving Edward's mouth was what prompted Roy to jerk his head towards the young man, raising the hairs on his arms and the inflection in his voice, "Edward! What the hell…?"

Roy followed Edward's focused golden orbs onto the floor, and the usually attentive prince didn't know how he had missed the complex tangles of circles and twisted lines of scripts adorning the wooden plank. Every trace of it was splayed out for him to see, clearly visible under the spectrum of flickering yellow candle and bright moonlight. But the strain to keep his racing heart and scrambling mind from jolting out of his bones was aggravated even more so by Edward's disturbing revelation.

"He's going to perform human transmutation… and he's using the Chancellor to resurrect his wi-"

Roy interjected with a hoarse voice as he swallowed thickly, "He's resurrecting Riza's mother..."

The horror on Riza's face was unmatched by anything Roy had ever seen on her. She had been paying attention to their short exchange while attempting to form an explanation behind her father's incursion at the castle and the insanity that she never once suspected he was capable of. She hovered shaky hands over her mouth, muttering under her breath, "No, no… This can't be happening..."

Before any of them could realize, Berthold had planted himself next to the bewitched chancellor. Stream of tears began to roll down his bony cheeks, and in turn his chest heaved laboriously. "Child, you were right… your mother... is dead… your grandfather is not a liar after all… " His viridescent irises sparkled under the moonlight, and as he stared at his daughter wide eyed, he began to cackle like a demented man. "But with his flesh and blood, I  _know_  I can bring her back to life..."

Her voice started trembling to mirror her father's, "Please father… please stop…"

More tears cascaded down his face, dripping onto his robe, and his expression softened, seemingly benign for the first time in the eventful night. He curved his mouth into a melancholy smile before slowly stooping down. "Don't you want to meet your mother, Riza? ...Don't you want to meet Tereza?"

Before anyone could interfere, the sorcerer slammed his palms onto the floor, whispering an eerie incantation. White lights slowly sprouted from the lines and circles, brightening the room, and a flash of light deprived all the occupants of sight, enveloping them in a shroud of powerful energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was so freakin' hard to write. The action sequence and everything... But I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think :)


	12. forbidden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And now we go back in time for Berthold/Tereza's backstory. No Royai here, I'm sorry :(, but they will be back next chapter. On another note, thank you so so much Renaia, WildSilence023, Beebop, Sailordeedlit, ssadropout, and LadyAureliana for the reviews on the last chapter! Reading each and every one of your review always makes me so happy. :)
> 
> Warning: a little NSFW-ish.

He stinks! The dirty boy smells salty like the market by the ocean that father likes to take her to every Saturn's day. Except today is Saturn's day, but he has told her not to come because it's her birthday. Instead her father told her to clean up and get ready because he will have a surprise present waiting by the time he gets back.

Eyeing her father's hands with suspicion, the little girl takes a handful of her long hair and plays with the strands, brushing the curled ends repeatedly with her short fingers. But her big brown eyes are wide and searching for that large blue wrapper with the small white bow.

Instead of finding a box containing a pretty dress in her father's hand, this year she finds a scrawny boy with sad green eyes and smudged cheeks that are so bony he looks like he hasn't had food in weeks. But he is here and he is still alive so it can't have been that long since the last time he ate anything. And why is his shirt all torn and soaked? Is that sweat or was he swimming in the ocean? Her thin eyebrows slope unpleasantly when she notices the boy grip her father's hand tighter. The little kid is scared of her now?

"Tereza dear, this is Berthold."

Her father pushes his round glasses up his nose before taking the boy by the shoulders and guiding him towards her. The boy still doesn't say anything, and Tereza thinks that he might not be able to talk or something. Or he is just really  _really_  shy.

The golden-haired little girl looks up at her father expectantly as her mouth slopes downward. Usually a simple pout along with a pleading voice work wonders for her. "Father, where is my gift? You told me that today is my tenth birthday."

His mouth slowly widens until Tereza sees a row of white teeth. He looks a lot like the jester at court that her father takes her to during the yearly spring festival. "Darling, of course! Your dress is sitting in the carriage. The maid will bring it inside and put it in your room."

The disappointment on her face slowly goes away. Her cheeks stretch as she squeals with excitement. Her whole face turns bright, and she jumps up and down in place, stepping on her long purple gown and almost falling on her face. She runs past the strange boy and into her father's arms, saying thank you with a high-pitched voice.

The quiet, young boy turns around to observe the girl. She seems to be much younger than ten because she is a lot shorter than himself, but she is actually only two years younger than him. His ears attune to that innocent laughing sound escaping her mouth. That is a sound he has not heard in a while. He looks at her grinning face with curiosity, not realizing that his mouth starts to curl up into a smile too as he watches her.

 

* * *

 

She recognizes the strange rock formation and that means she's near. She always wonders why her father had told him to live in such a secluded area so far away from the main estate, so far away from civilization. But at least the scenery is beautiful. There's a creek nearby, and she has seen him many times coming back from a swim, his shirt and pants wet and everything. It always makes the gears in her head turn as to how he's able to swim in such rapid water.

She scowls as she carries the heavy basket in her hand, full of bread and cheese and a bottle of fresh milk. The incompetent maid sure had the gall to ask her to do such a menial task when her father is away. She would make sure the stupid old woman pay for it. But at least she can spend some time admiring the view below the cliff, and perhaps she should force the boy to keep her company.

But does she even want his company? The dull boy doesn't look like he does much during the day, just reading or throwing rocks at the creek, at least from the few times she has visited with her father. But what's worse is that he doesn't even talk to her. He just sits there pretending like she doesn't exist. She  _hates_  being ignored, especially by the likes of him.

The door creaks open and the first thing she sees is his back, looking surprisingly broad even when he is slouching just a bit as he reads from the thick book. His body seems to outgrow his overly snug shirt, sensing his discomfort as he squirms from its grasp every now and then. Then she observes short strands sticking out from the pile of messy dark blonde hair, as though he decided that morning he would do nothing else but pore over the text. Judging from the way his neck bends, she can imagine that the edge of his green eyes glued much too closely to the vellum. She swears that in a few years time he's going to be wearing glasses just like her father.

As she stands by the door, she pays attention to his steady breathing and how the rise and fall on his back is subtle. He doesn't move but sits motionless. So did he not hear her approaching footsteps or the creaking sound of the wooden door opening? Was he purposely ignoring her? She rubs her hand mischievously. Perhaps she should try and scare him. He deserves at least that for making her walk so far.

She tiptoes slowly but surely, and she carefully extends both of her hands with as little noise as possible. She suppresses the giggle in her throat by sucking in her stomach tightly. But the young boy twists his head just in time to see her sly grin and spread out fingers as she's trying to pounce his unsuspecting body.

His voice is definitely unsuspecting, but his expression doesn't give it away. "Tereza! What are you doing?"

"Ahh, you caught me! I was trying to scare you..."

He crosses his skinny arms over his chest and furrows his brows with disapproval, contorting the rest of his face with deep lines like he has aged an extra ten years. His tone is of annoyance, "What do you want, Tereza?"

She doesn't realize until this moment that his voice has gotten deeper and heavier, and it sounds…  _different_  in her ears. She also notices the stubble on his chin, pondering to herself if she should bring him a razor to shave the prickly hair the next time she visits. She tilts her head forward, bringing her face closer to his, asking him with a mocking intonation, "I'm here to deliver your food. You should be thankful I am so nice. And have you been reading since you woke up this morning? Your hair is a mess! Don't you have anything more  _fun_  to do than read?"

Like always, he replies with that know-it-all tone, as though he is more clever than she is, "Reading is fun. And you also gain knowledge, and you can't put a price to that."

"If you're seeking knowledge, you should tell father to take you to his daily court meetings! Everyone there is old, I am sure they will be able to teach you a thing or two."

Turning his back to her once again, he disregards her ridicule and goes back to his book. He tilts his head downward, reading the text in silence and with great concentration.

She plants her hands on her hips and glowers. She  _detests_  being ignored, especially when she has made the effort to deliver his stupid grocery so many miles away from her home. Besides, tomorrow is her thirteenth birthday, so she should be spending her day prettying herself, taking a nice hot bath and washing her hair. In Amestris, tradition says the celebrant would be showered with a three-day festivity full of delicious foods and dancing and gifts as she becomes a woman in the eye of the law. She will be expecting a gift from the ungrateful boy, especially after today. Not that he has ever made it a habit to give her one.

She huffs in annoyance before grabbing the book from his hand, reading the text out loud, mimicking his deep, manly voice, "Fire is not really fire but an excess of heat and ebullition; but what we call air is that it surrounds the moist and warm atmosphere-"

He extends his hand to reach the book, irritating lilt on his voice, "Give it back!"

Turning away swiftly, she giggles amusedly and eludes his grab, resuming her deriding lilt, "-because it contains vapor and-"

The lanky boy springs to a stand and lunges at the agile woman, but she jumps forward to avoid him. "Tereza… Please..."

She twists her head to look at him, grinning with contempt. "-because it contains vapor and dry exhalation from within the earth..."

This time, instead of aiming for the book he aims for her, wrapping his long, slender arms around the girl's thin torso. He struggles to keep a hold of her and quickly plucks the book from her hands as she tries to wriggle free. He tosses the book onto the table behind him when she loosens herself from him by taking a wide step forward. But she puts too much weight on one foot, causing her to lose balance. With a surprised gasp she clutches onto his shirt, dragging him down to the floor with her.

They both fall with a loud thud, him on top of her. Luckily he put most of his weight on his hands so he doesn't crush her small body underneath. She opens her eyes one at a time to find his sharp jawline and long nose hovering above her, and then a shocked expression. The heat from his legs warms the bottom portion of her body, like a nice blanket on a cold rainy day. She doesn't know why but all of a sudden she can feel a loud thump in her heart. But before she can give the nature of her malady another thought she sees him wince from pain.

Gripping his hands without thinking, she studies the redness of his palms and looks up at him apologetically. Her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach. "Sorry…"

He answers with irritation, "It's fine..."

Regret washes over her, and she reluctantly watches him massage his wrist, wanting to offer help without knowing how. But in the conflicting moment she senses that loud thump again in her chest, and then again, and again. Louder each time. And after the tenth count, she ponders if she might have come down with the disease of the heart, like the one her father had told her about when her mother passed away.

 

* * *

 

"Hawk...?"

She has decided a year ago that calling him by the first four letters of his surname is much easier than pronouncing his full first name. The nickname also marked the beginning of an amicable relationship between the two, stemming from the suggestion of a truce on her part to tolerate each other. They shook hands, and then she became his first friend, and he became her fiftieth friend. But that doesn't matter, because what matters is that they're on good terms now, and she might even go as far as acknowledging the fact that she enjoys his presence sometimes…

She blinks one day, and then the overly skinny boy is no longer a boy. He has grown tall, a full head taller than her now compared to the previous year when he was winning by a mere index finger. He has also developed appreciative qualities about him that she admittedly finds attractive, enhanced only by the constant mysterious aura he's carried with him since he was a child. He's no longer just skin and bones, but the meat has filled him in nicely and in all the proper places, often times earning him a second glance from her. In Amestris, he would be considered a full-fledged adult, of lawful age to inherit the throne if he were a prince, a common age to take a wife. Except he will probably never find a companion suitable to his lifestyle, because he still immerses himself in his books, much to her chagrin, and still as quiet as ever.

The sparse room in which he normally occupies is dark and empty. The thought of finding him  _not_  curled up with that thick, intimidating leather tome is all the more fascinating, and precisely so because he had been following a tight schedule until earlier this year, when she noticed a slight change to his day-to-day activity.

Only then she realizes that she knows close to nothing about him other than his old schedule and his penchant for reading. The questions of his background intrude her mind. Where did he come from? What happened to his family? Why does he read so much? The exasperation is lodged in her throat as she mentally inquires the many  _many_ questions she has for him. She doesn't know if he would answer them truthfully, but perhaps he will humor her.

The place she searches next is the creek. Finding a stamp of his size 10 leather boots in the wet soil where she surmises he had been standing, she follows the lush trees along the water. His new favorite place seems to be the grassy patch under the stars and the moon, because this is the third time she finds him there, looking contemplatively at the sky. The spot is reachable in one hundred 'manly' steps along the creek, right by the edge of a cliff that overlooks the vast ocean.

Patting the dry ground next to him, she gingerly lowers herself, taking a seat close enough to him to feel his body heat radiate in the cool summer night.

"Hello Hawk."

"Hello Tereza."

She knows better than to inquire her curiosity, so she simply mirrors his posture, leaning her weight on her elbows, following his pensive eyes to gaze at the sky. She states, she doesn't question, "You're watching the stars."

He grunts quietly, but she understands that it means 'yes'.

"That's the constellation Lacerta…" Finger pointing to the sky, she traces the rectangular pattern above her. "It means lizard. It's not a well known constellation, especially when its adjoining neighbors are ones named after mythological heroes." She chuckles lightly, "But the story goes that Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Perseus, and the rest of these great heroes needed Lacerta to guide them on the correct path, because its light would glow the brightest during rainy days. And then it would dim itself when the weather is clear. So I suppose-"

Hawk interjects abruptly, "Wait. What did you say?"

"It dims itself when the weather is clear…?"

"No, before that."

"Um… it glows the brightest during rainy days?"

Unexpectedly, he grabs her shoulders with a powerful grip, and a bright smile and bright eyes shine from his face. "That is precisely what it is." Then he hugs her tightly.

She has never seen him this excited before, with his eyes glinting in the dark as something dawns on him, such jubilant expression like he has just discovered a new, uncharted territory. And his silly grin; there's something endearing about it. He looks like a child getting candy from his parents. She smiles against his chest in return, but more importantly the inside of her body tingles wonderfully as she revels in the the firmness of his embrace.

 

* * *

 

The shuffling sound of her footsteps doesn't even stir him. She takes another step. His focus is on the stone as he resumes carving a jagged rock onto the formation. The scratching sound bounces off the trees and reverberates into the woods, scaring off nearby birds as they fly onto a branch deeper in the forest. Perhaps if she screams his name he will finally notice her arrival.

But she opts for a softer, gentler tone, "Good afternoon, Berthold." She has reverted back to calling him by his first name. It's more appropriate for a lady to address a gentleman by his first name.

"Good afternoon, Tereza." He doesn't spring up from his seated position nor turn around to glance at her. He has been extremely preoccupied lately, sparing her almost no chatter each time she visits.

She approaches with heavy and dragging steps, purposely rustling the grass beneath her shoes to attract his attention. Then she stands to his left, just within his periphery, close enough for him to  _see_  her.

He finally notices and looks up at her nonchalantly, glancing up and down her new dress. "That's a nice gown, Tereza. The blue suits you." But he has a weak smile on his face, almost feigned, as though her presence is a bother.

She bites her bottom lip, fingers fidgeting behind her back. Does she not look pretty enough for him today? She presses on, "Why, thank you, Berthold. Father gave it to me for my birthday."

He has shifted all of his attention back onto the rock, but he replies to her out of obligations. "Ah, and you are turning eighteen today?"

"I am."

A slurred, distracted reply flies out of his mouth. His face has  _kissed_  the rock once again, eyes focused on smooth grey surface, "Happy birthday..."

"Thank you..."

She abruptly squats next to him, sitting in an unladylike manner, dirtying her new gown. Glancing at his etching, she sees a faint circle with a lizard drawing right in the center, wondering irritatingly what about the symbol is more enticing than her. She picks up a small, sharp rock and starts carving her own initial on the same stone, just on the opposite end from his own drawing.

He finally looks at her with curiosity, "Tereza, what are you doing?"

"I'm carving my initial. Can't you see?"

Berthold leans his body closer to hers tactlessly, face only inches apart from her own. His eyes are studying her rough carving with curiosity, entirely oblivious what the scant distance is doing to the young woman next to him. "Why your initial?"

The clueless face he displays as he fixates on the spontaneous distraction prompts her to purse her lips, glaring at his incognizance while trying to suppress the pool of desire bubbling in her stomach. There's a vulnerability about his current position, giving her the perfect chance to finally succumb to the irrepressible urge.

She gingerly palms his cheek, caressing the unshaven skin with her thumb tenderly. He cranks his neck so slowly towards her she can almost hear the cracking of his bone with each turn. When he finally faces her, their noses are only a breath apart, so close she can smell the burnt scent that is distinctly his. The shock in his eyes makes her happy, because for once in her life she can actually  _see_  what he feels. Gone is the mysterious air about him, the incomprehensible expression, the obnoxiously calm demeanor as though he has his whole life planned out ahead of him.

Removing the gap between their faces completely, she leans in to plant a soft kiss on his lips, lasting merely a second. But the moment the heat of his mouth leaves hers, she returns for another. And then another, feeling a strong pulsing on her lips each time she breaks it apart.

"...Tereza… what...?"

But she doesn't stop there and interrupts his question with yet another kiss. Except this time it lingers more than a few seconds, more fervent, more explorative, almost like she's trying to determine how she best prefers to taste him.

His normally composed and calculating mind is a hodgepodge of emotions, debating whether to pursue an exit strategy or to further discover this newfound feeling out of curiosity. But his body seems to provide a convenient answer as one hand rests awkwardly on her shoulder and his chest molds uncomfortably against her shapely breasts.

Only after they break apart he realizes how much he enjoys her soft ministrations, the yearning for more intensified only by the absence of her lips. She rises to stand almost gracefully before taking a few short, reluctant steps back, and he can see the shiver on her skin for an indiscernible reason. Wrapping her hands around her back, she sends him to the brink of a heart attack as she begins to unlace the strings on her new gown. With his jaw hanging loose he stares with astonishment, watching her swiftly undress in the deafening silence until she drops the heavy, blue silk material to pool messily on the ground.

The young man feels a growing bulge in his groin as he stares at her bare body with wide eyes, locking his sight onto her pert nipples. But the tenting down under has only grown larger as she takes a small, hesitant step closer, and another, and then another. And suddenly everything below his waist feels much  _much_  too constricted.

The attractive woman then crawls on top of him, one hand slipping down his plain, white tunic, unbuttoning slowly and with shaky hands. The rapid pounding of his heart almost feels surreal because his fingertips have turned numb, nails digging deep into the wet soil beneath him. She struggles to release the linen fabric from his torso, but his limbs involuntarily aid her wrestling hands. In a matter of seconds he is completely as naked as her, with only the cool summer breeze, damp ground, and prickly grass to accompany them.

She straddles his lap, sweaty hands on his chest, and her long hair tickles his neck as she leans forward. "Berthold… will you have me?"

"I…I uh..." The answer to her question is on his mind, but he has difficulty getting the words out. She looks absolutely enticing as he lingers his gaze on her delicate curves. Traversing his sight upward, her pale complexion is glowing like never before, disheveled golden hair framing her face beautifully. But there's a womanly scent about her that arouses him this time around, and he doesn't think it's magic nor does he have any inkling as to what it is, but he knows it's making him dizzy. Stammering an answer feels too late at this point, and he also has this unrelenting urge to release himself of the tightness below. Berthold decides to listen to his body, giving into temptation,  _having_  her like she asked of him.

 

* * *

 

He starts to look at her a little differently since their night of passion. The research to unlocking the fire magic from the text he inherited from his mother is intermittently tucked into the back of his mind, eclipsed by the image of a certain golden haired woman with hazel eyes. The young man confesses that he can't wait to share the same bed again, but he isn't as well versed in the order of things within human society as he'd like to be and thus keeps it to himself for fear of imposing on her.

He is at least glad that she hasn't ceased to visit him, even when most of their days are spent with her lying down on his small bed to ease a curious vomiting sickness about her. Today though, she looks more cheerful and radiant than usual. Her cheeks flush prettily, and there's this giddiness on her feet that makes it seem like she's leaping with joy every time she takes a step.

"You seem awfully happy today." He can't suppress the gentle smile on his face as she bounces her way to him.

She stands in front of him with a giant grin that slowly mellows out as she speaks. "I come with news! Good news. Well, at least for me it is... I do hope it is for you, too..."

Tapping a finger on his knee, he looks at her with a small smile and inquires with a slight impatience in his tone, "What is it?"

"Berthold, I'm going to be a mother!" Approaching him with slow yet steady steps, she unfurls the outer layer of her gown, carefully lifting his stiff hand and placing it on her slightly protruding stomach. The swell under her skin is barely noticeable, but as he rubs his palm gently over her abdomen he can feel the tiny, growing life within. She smiles at him with fondness. "And Berthold… you're going to be a father."

Stuttering isn't even an option as he stares at her with bulging eyes. His mouth dries in as quick as a second, his reply stuck in his throat, and all he can do is to remain unmoving. Her news catches him by surprise, entirely unexpected but churning a strangely wonderful sensation in his stomach. While his quick-witted mind hasn't determined the consequences of their news, Berthold Hawkeye is certain he feels excited. Even when his expression doesn't seem to show it.

"Are… are you... not happy?" The curve on her lips flatten, eyes glistening, looking like she's about to cry.

For the first time since that day he can't resist to touch her, to really  _feel_  her. He swings his restless arms around her torso, not unkindly, pulling her close until his cheeks rest on her growing belly. The joyful smile on his face indents her skin. "Riza. If the baby is a girl, we will name her Riza. The short form of your name Tereza..."

She becomes as rigid as the wall behind her as she discerns his unanticipated gesture. His words speak with so much warmth, fondness, and love, and she can feel unbidden tears slowly form in her eyes. She blames her hormones as she starts sobbing, a stream of tears falling down effortlessly onto her gown and his hair. Then she starts laughing out loud, endearingly if not a little crazy, and he follows suit, kissing her stomach with gentleness. She interweaves her fingers in his short locks, kissing his hair affectionately, and she mutters softly, "I like Elizabeth. So if the baby is a girl, she shall be called Elizabeth Riza Hawkeye."

 

* * *

 

 

Suddenly the chalet big enough for two feels much too cramped for three. The third presence is thought to have shared the same delight as the other two, but instead anger consumes him.

His gaze is downcast so Berthold can't perceive the dark rings around the man's eyes. As the greying man sits on the flimsy chair, the warm and fatherly gestures disappear, gradually replaced with a seriousness about him that's borderline malicious. His voice is calm but cold as he clasps his hands together, and the tone has a finality to it, "I forbid _you_ from ever setting foot on my land again."

The grip on Berthold's hand becomes tighter, but he can feel her palm starting to moist at her father's acrimonious order. "Father, he didn't do anything wrong! It was me. I wanted it!"

"Tereza, enough!" Her father lifts his head up, staring at Berthold with a murderous gaze. "After all I have given you, this is how you repay me? Who would want to take her as a wife now?!"

"Father, we can get married and have a wedding!"

"Child, you don't know anything, do you? Do you even know what this boy is capable of? There's a reason I send him to live miles away from our home!"

But she squeezes his hand one more time with a firmer grip. "No. Berthold stays."

He steals a sidelong glance at her, seeing her determined eyes drill into her father's. He has only begun to love the unflinching woman beside him, and the idea of being separated from her after all these years seem almost unbelievable, even when his mind was set to do exactly that just a year ago.

But Berthold Hawkeye is a new man. He'd cast away his oceanic form in an instant if it would mean he could stay. The only thing he has been looking forward to since is to learn more about Tereza Grumman, raise their child together, spend the rest of his life with her. But the flow of the universe is going against them and he can't help but feel he is the only one to blame. If only the Chancellor hadn't found him. If only he hadn't accidentally performed magic in front of the man. If only he hadn't had such a tenacious and beautiful daughter. If only his parents weren't captured. If only _, if only…_

"Tereza, release his hand. Now!"

"No!"

The overbearing man approaches his stubborn daughter, lifting a firm hand and slapping her harshly on the cheek as he fumes with anger. Tereza winces in pain, and Berthold can see her reddened skin throbbing from the hit.

What the young man senses next goes beyond rage. His eyes burned with a passion to destroy, and he no longer has control over his emotions as he swiftly lifts a hand, snapping his fingers in the air. The thin curtains by the window catch the brunt of his anger, roaring into life as the bright flame consumes the cotton fabric in a matter of seconds. Her unsuspecting father crouches down from the surprise, the pregnant daughter gasping loudly as she feels the sudden scorching heat behind her.

Tereza stares at him in horror, witnessing his magical ability with a gaping mouth. Grumman's expression is equally as startled as hers, grimacing at the unexpected sight before him while conveniently justifying Berthold's banishment at the violent outburst.

Her fearless father composes himself, bringing his posture to an upright position. The surprise in his eyes have disappeared and quickly turns into fury as he discerns his daughter's terrified appearance. "If you care about Tereza, you will leave now… She deserves someone better than a savage like you!"

Berthold sees  _fear_  soil her beautiful features, and he can sense disappointment settling in his stomach, dejected expression visible on his face. The chance at mending the situation flew out of the window the moment he shot fire from his hand. But if Tereza won't have him now, at least he has successfully wielded the most powerful magic. Perhaps now he can finally save his parents from those barbaric humans in Creta...

The shunned sorcerer turns swiftly towards the door, exiting the small house with vengeance in his eyes. But her trembling shout stops him in place, pausing the rapid beat of his heart for a brief second. "Berthold! I… I love you…"

With his back facing the father and daughter, the unsettled young man momentarily stops to listen to the shuffling of feet as Grumman chases after his heartbroken daughter. Berthold listens attentively to her sob of despair, hearing a loud thud on the creaky wooden floor a few seconds later as she falls on her knees and cries onto her palms.

Berthold grits his teeth as hot tears roll down his cheeks, but his fists are clenched tightly by his side until they start to feel painful. His gait is aimless, but he trudges along until the sound of Tereza's sad wails recede from his ears. He mutters under his breath, an unwavering pledge, "I'll come back for you and our child. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is a lot longer than normal, but I hope it answers all of your questions regarding Berthold/Tereza/Grumman's backstory. If it doesn't, please kindly share so I can make sure to answer it in the next few chapters. Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!


	13. her mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I would like to say thank you so much to Renaia, Homu-Homu, A Passing Housewife, ssadropout, Sailordeedlit, WildSilence023, and Capricciosa. We're reaching the end of the series, and this chapter will conclude the arc for Tereza/Berthold/Grumman. I hope you enjoy!

Pushing Riza away intuitively from the activated circle, Roy shielded her stiff body and waited for the blinding light to fade away in the cramped room. A deafening high-pitched ring accompanied the brief violent thud of bodies hitting the wall, followed by muffled yells that gradually distinguished themselves into the recognizable voice of one of the brothers.

"Ed! Are you hurt? Your face is covered in blood..." Under Alphonse's heaving body was the Chancellor's unconscious form, legs and arms splayed out limply on the floor, but the man was otherwise unscathed. The younger brother wasn't terribly injured, but he emerged from the transmutation attempt with less than ideal cuts and bruises on his skin.

Edward grunted exhaustively as he propped himself up against the wall, a trail of blood marring his temple down to his neck. He anxiously swiped at his face, staring at the viscous fluid with confusion as he felt no wounds beneath the tainted skin. "I… I'm fine, Al. This isn't my blood…"

Massaging her aching temple gingerly, Riza opened her eyes little by little until her vision fully adjusted to the darkness. Her mind attempted to comprehend the situation as she glanced around the thrashed room, hearing muted groans and seeing the drawing on the floor spoiled with dirt and grime. "Roy… what… happened?" Bringing herself up from her crouched position, she looked at Roy with a perturbed expression, searching his frantic eyes for an answer.

Roy cupped her cheek desperately, eyes wildly scanning her body for injuries. When everything seemed all and well, he breathed a sigh of relief, slowly calming his palpitating heart as he shot a small smile at Riza. "Riza, are you alright? Do you feel any pain?"

She leaned into his touch, feeling the gauze wrapped around his earlier wound. Studying his unharmed appearance spontaneously relaxed her breathing, steadying her heart rate, because she knew that he was alright. "I... I'm fine, Roy. Are you hurt? Your hands...?"

Roy shook his head, but he quickly twisted his body around to observe the situation, planting the dim lantern to his left closer to the center of the room. His eyes were locked on the older brother, who was attempting to even his ragged breathing. But the man next to him suffered a more terrible injury as he seemed completely battered and bruised, a dark hue smeared on his protruding cheekbones and swollen upper lips on one side.

Lying besides Edward was Berthold Hawkeye, who was slowly stirring awake, and the man reflexively touched his head as he groaned from pain. His creased forehead was smudged with a dark tint the moment he removed his palm, the streak of blood rooting from the laceration he forced upon himself as sacrificial offering. The blood continued to drip onto the floor, leaving a pool of dark red color that slowly seeped in between the floorboards. The incapacitated man coughed furiously, jerking his head against the wall as he choked on a mix of regurgitated blood and saliva, the particle spraying from his mouth all over the dusty floor.

Everything had happened in the blink of an eye. The moment the deranged sorcerer slammed his hands onto the intricate symbols, both brothers had acted swiftly as though they were fully aware of the man's hidden agenda. They had exchanged knowing glances, and the younger brother reached and shoved the victim from the center of the circle while the other slammed his own hands onto the musty floor to erect a clay-like barrier around the assailant. But the next sequence of event was entirely unpredictable, because neither brothers had expected the sorcerer's dagger to land into his sternum, inflicting a lethal jab, sending the already fragile man even closer to his death.

When Edward finally composed himself, he hurriedly instructed his younger brother to mend the broken man, "Al, come and help him, quick! He's losing a lot of blood."

Alphonse gestured to Roy and Riza to nurse the slowly awaking Chancellor from his weakened state. The young man then abruptly sprang up from his stooping position and dashed to the injured man, his movement so full of haste it seemed as if he had teleported to him with magic. Riza obeyed and flew to her grandfather's side in a moment's notice, cradling his head on her lap as he slowly came to consciousness. Underneath her composed self, she could feel a slight tremor in her hand as she aided the man to a sitting position, caused by anxiety at the thought of her father's condition. When the Chancellor finally opened his eyes, they were no longer blank and dazed, and it provided Riza with a momentary respite.

A series of bright lights intermittently filled the room as Alphonse performed his healing magic. Riza could see the astonishment in Roy's eyes as he sat idle and with mouth gaping, his heart seemingly to stop from the anticipation. Edward seemed more collected, but he, too, stood unmoving as he watched his younger brother's straining face. Within a minute's time, the room's anxious occupants could discern the hopelessness in the air as the younger man's back fell to the floor, sighing heavily and feeling desperately spent. Edward raced to him in an instant, swiping the sweat from Alphonse's forehead.

"Brother, I have removed... the blade and closed up... his wounds, but…" He heaved tiredly, the sound of his erratic breathing crowding the air.

The ever impatient Edward interjected, "But what, Al?"

"The man was already dying, Ed… even before the dagger... was lodged into him... He seems to have been suffering... from a chronic disease for a while now…" Al sluggishly sat up, leaning his weight on one arm as Edward gripped him by the other. "I can feel an unusual growth... inside his lungs... and it's spreading quicker... than my ability to get rid of it..."

Riza crawled her way to her father's, her movement almost spasmic as she stared at him full of concern. Her steadying heart was rapidly drumming again in her chest, the rush of adrenaline sending her to the edge of a panic attack as she carefully embraced his limp body, holding onto it tightly as fear governed the thought of losing him. The man was wheezing, followed by unrelenting bouts of coughing fit that forced his mouth to spit blood onto the creaky wooden floor. Kissing her father's forehead with quivering lips, her voice was similarly shaky when she muttered a chain of unintelligible prayer under her breath, "No, no, no… You will be fine, father… You will get better… please…"

But Alphonse jolted her back to reality. The recovered young sorcerer shot her an apologetic look, speaking with a tone that was meant to be comforting, "Forgive me, Lady Riza… There's nothing more I could do for your father… But know that I covered his wounds as best I could so he would not suffer as painfully..." Patting her shoulder gently, the younger man offered his silent condolences, prompting the distressed young woman to trickle hot liquid down her cheeks.

Roy quickly jumped to Riza's side, rubbing her back in a circular motion as he felt her heaving body. His own heart started to pound rapidly as he studied her overwhelmed expression, and he could feel his breath matching her erratic breathing. But the prince knew he only had his words and gestures to ease her grief, so he remained by her side, shushing her and consoling her as best he could.

The Chancellor struggled to a stand, and he leaned his weak body against the wall before finally careening his way towards the dying man. Seeing the sick man wrestling with death, he could feel his aging body started to tremble, numbing his fingertips and his feet, churning a sour sensation in his stomach that left him feeling remorseful. His shaky hand slipped into his back pocket, and he gingerly knelt next to his estranged ward. "Berthold… I know we did not meet eye to eye when it came to Tereza… And I would like to apologize to you…" The old man then stared at Riza briefly. "...and to your daughter for what happened in the past. I sincerely hope that you will forgive this old man..." He took out a neatly folded letter from his dignitary garb, handing it to his granddaughter.

The sobbing woman looked up at her grandfather questioningly, reluctantly accepting the aged piece of paper in her hand as she tried to understand what his apology had meant. "What is this... grandfather?"

"It is a letter from your mother, Tereza, written just before she passed... It was addressed to Berthold, so I kept it safe, hoping I would encounter him one more time… But you came along and I had wished to give it to you when we spoke at the garden… Do forgive your grandfather, Elizabeth. I could not help my prying self and read the letter just before the ball started."

The choking sorcerer mustered the last of his strength at the mention of Tereza's name. He propped himself up against Riza's arm, attempting to collect his voice, but all his daughter could see was how his eyes glistened and teeth clenched as he was once again reminded that his beloved Tereza was no longer in this world. Her father started to sob wildly, loud and vehement as though his health was momentarily restored just for this purpose. As Riza stared at her father, she couldn't help but feel more tears cascade down her face, dripping from her chin and onto her father's garb. For the first time in her life, she was certain that her father had indeed loved her mother, especially because he had never mentioned her until she discovered her existence herself.

Berthold stammered, his voice rough and scratchy, "Riza… Your mother… would have been... proud of you… I'm sorry… I haven't been… a very good… father... to you…"

Snorting her mucus, she answered with a trembling voice, "Father, don't talk... Just rest, please…"

Grumman softly interrupted, "Berthold… I harbored deep hatred for you all these years, but her words in the letter opened my eyes… And I am sorry, so very sorry… I truly wish now that things could have been different…"

Berthold's body jerked violently as he hacked more blood, the fluid tracing down his chin. The salty liquid in his eyes flowed out and soaked his mangled shirt, painting a depressing combination of regretful tears shed a quarter century too late and unnecessary bloodshed. "I miss her… Riza… I miss your mother… And I was too late… with my promise… I'm sorry Tereza…" He looked at his daughter with regrets, uttering quietly and determinedly, "I have to do… one last thing… before I go…"

With the remnants of his energy, the sorcerer muttered an incantation, the foreign words lulling the unsuspecting Riza into a brief slumber. He extended his frail hands to touch the edge of his daughter's shoulder, where the ink on her skin began. As he finished casting his spell, the intricate symbols and drawings from her back slowly faded, until the entirety of it finally disappeared without a trace. The only memory of it ever being there was the tiny, unerased portion on her leftmost side just above the shoulder blade, where her father had accidentally snapped her with his fire, disfiguring the skin and permanently etching the miniscule red script beneath it.

The removal of her tattoo restored a stream of images in her mind, starting with the memory of her childhood with Roy, her grandfather, her castle life, and lastly of the mother she thought she had never met. With each vivid picture returned, Riza could feel her chest burst with overflowing emotions, a tinge of sadness, happiness, love, along with a hundred other feelings she could barely put a name to rushed through her veins.

Roy's expression mirrored Riza's as the same sensation surged through him. His eyes were tightly shut and his hand was pressed on his wrinkled forehead. The prince looked as though he was suffering from the worst headache by the way he gritted his teeth. But as seconds passed by, the lines on his face disappeared and his eyes lit up as he opened them; his appearance so bright he looked as though he gained a few years of his life back. Eagerly taking her hand in his, Roy presented her with the most delightful smile. "Riza, I remember... I remember everything..."

Riza laced her fingers through his, her mind clear and weightless as she recalled the memories of the mischievous young boy she grew up with. The image of her beautiful mother also flashed in her mind, and she could sense heat in the back of her skull as she suppressed more tears from trailing down. She gripped his hand, replying with a reassuring tone through her whimper, "I do, too, Roy… My mother… grandfather… and you..." She then looked back at her father, caressing his bony cheek as she stared at his withering form, "Thank you, Father… for returning them..."

Berthold studied his daughter's affectionate gaze, seeing Tereza in her appearance, feeling melancholy at their similarities. But he knew he did not have much longer, so he returned her gaze with pleading eyes, and with a gentle touch of his hand he gave her a weak smile. "Please read me… the letter… Riza..."

The observing old man behind her nudged his granddaughter to read the letter aloud, nodding at her approvingly. With the constant drip of tears into her mouth, Riza's faltering voice formed her mother's last words into the funereal silence, her speech ricocheting onto the crumbling walls and into the tuning ears of the present company.

What the listening audience didn't notice, however, was that the ailing man was steadily succumbing to his end the further his daughter read on. If he had been hanging onto dear life prior to the night's maddening affair, then each word from Tereza only precipitated him to want to let it go. The longer he dwelled on the loss of her unwavering love, the more unbearable the pain in his chest became. The last drop of his tear rolled down his cheek and a wistful smile graced his face as he reveled in the memory of her mischief, her vibrancy, her affection, and their propinquity borne out of convenience. At the end of the letter, Berthold Hawkeye willed his heart to cease beating completely until the last fragment of life escaped his grieving shell. Seeing a bright light in his periphery, he whispered fondly with the last of his breath, "I love you, Tereza."

* * *

 

**Twenty Some Years Ago...**

"Mother! Roy is being mean..." Running past the working chambermaid by the arcing doorway, a golden haired young girl climbed for her mother with a terrified voice. Her small hand grappled onto the edge of the four poster bed, and she struggled to pull herself up to join the bedridden woman. Gently gripping her daughter's hand, the sick mother pulled up the little girl as she cleared her throat from lingering sputum.

Not one second longer, a young boy of similar age emerged from the door, recklessly running into the girl's mother's chamber with his fingers tightly clasped together. He employed a mischievous grin under a pile of messy black hair, energetic feet as he effortlessly jumped onto the bed and landed himself next to the blonde girl. The young prince gingerly unclasped his hands, laughing out loud, and a black beetle hovered above his palm. Grabbing it carefully by the thorax, the boy tried to place the squirming bug on the little girl's neatly combed hair. "Rizaaaa… the bug is looking for you..."

The girl's frantic eyes widened with terror, and she thrashed her arms and legs, attempting to get away from the boy's shenanigan. "No, no! I don't want it!" Her flailing hand reflexively swatted his, prompting him to rub his throbbing skin, and the bug flew away swiftly, out of the boy's grasp and out to the open window.

Tereza gathered the little girl into her skinny arms, shushing her and brushing her short hair with her fingers as she felt her daughter's palpitating heart in her chest.

A pang of guilt settled in the boy, and he felt an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach as he watched his frightened friend. But his young mind wasn't fully comprehending the wrongdoing, and he quickly justified his action in a panic tone, hoping it would get rid of the strange feeling, "Riza, the bug is harmless… he won't hurt you!"

Her retort was feisty, "He was going to bite me!"

The young boy interjected, the discomfort from earlier gone as quickly as it came, "No, he was not!"

Chuckling at the children's exchange, the little girl's mother mouthed a reprimand, but what left her lips was a turbulent coughing spell and a loud wheezing sound. She was so drowned in the affliction she looked as though she would never resurface from it.

The little girl crawled beside her paling mother, leaning her forehead forward, staring at the coughing woman with a worried look. "Mother… are you alright?"

She cleared her itchy throat, reassuring her daughter with a weak smile. "I'm fine, Riza…"

The young mother collected herself, and she beckoned for the incognizant boy to join her. The boy gingerly treaded the bed, the weight of his small steps dipping into the springy cushion as he plopped himself next to Riza. The grin on his face had disappeared, replaced with a shameful expression.

Staring at the apprehensive boy with a gentle look, the kind woman patted his arm, unable to suppress a smile from tugging her lips as she watched the boy's fidgeting form. "Roy, do you remember your lessons? What did the headmaster say about a king's duty?"

The boy merely focused his sight onto the pastel-colored blanket, mumbling under his breath, "A king must establish order, keep peace, and protect the citizens of the kingdom…"

"That's right. And when you scared Riza with the beetle, was that keeping peace?"

He glanced away from her, his cheeks reddening. "...No."

"If Riza is feeling scared, what should you do, Roy?"

Looking at the smiling mother timidly, he stole a furtive glance at Riza. "I… have to protect her…?"

But the little girl interrupted suddenly with an ostentatious lilt, "Mother, but Roy gets pushed around by the bigger boys in town! And sometimes I have to help Roy and yell at them, because they would make fun of him."

Roy furrowed his brows in annoyance. "They do not!"

The girl retorted back passionately, "They do, too!"

Laughing at their innocent banter, the mother tucked her little girl's blonde locks behind her ear with slender fingers, staring at her fondly. "Yes Riza, you must help Roy when you can. But you know what would be even better?" The boy and the girl looked at her eagerly. "What would be better is if you watch each other's back. And that means Roy will protect Riza, and Riza will protect Roy. That way you make sure nothing bad will happen to either of you. Can you both promise to do that?"

The boy nodded quietly. "Yes…"

Riza glanced at the boy before quickly mimicking his gesture. "Yes, mother…" But the girl's curious brown eyes remained on her mother, searching for an answer from her expression as she propped her chin with her hands. "And who protects you, mother? I have my Roy… where is your Roy?"

Tereza's eyebrows quirked upward unexpectedly, and she felt a sudden tightness in her chest as she registered her daughter's question. The constricting pain was unlike the one she suffered from the chronic illness, but more akin to the feeling of a heart broken into pieces, accompanied with a rapid beating of her pulse and an intense yearning for the unattainable. The sensation was persistently there many years ago, especially strong just before her daughter was born, but it slowly tapered away as she watched the little girl grow up. It never fully disappeared, however, springing up every now and then, particularly at night when she lay in bed alone and contemplative.

Looking at her daughter affectionately, she smiled wistfully. "My Roy's name is Hawk, darling."

"Where is Hawk, mother?"

Another coughing fit intruded her lungs, and she hacked violently as she covered a shaky hand over her mouth. Specks of blood splattered on her palm, but she didn't let her sad eyes remain as she answered her daughter's innocent inquiry, "Hawk… had to go on an adventure…" The little girl's expectant gaze lingered on her mother's, awaiting further explanation. "But fear not, darling, because Hawk will return."

The chambermaid approached the edge of the bed, motioning for the little girl to leave. "Lady Elizabeth, your mother needs to rest." The assertive older woman beckoned the prince to join, "You, too, Prince Roy."

Crawling to the edge of the bed, Riza briefly looked back at her mother with intense curiosity before jumping down onto the floor. "Will Hawk come back and protect you, mother?"

Tereza looked at her daughter assuringly. "I am certain that he will, darling."

Jumping off the bed, Riza grabbed Roy's hand reflexively, slowly leading him to the exit. But before the maid could shoo them out of the room, the little girl beamed a wide grin at her mother, large brown eyes shining brightly and giddily. "And then will you and Hawk be playing in the garden like me and Roy?"

Chuckling at her daughter's adorable expression, she replied with a smile full of hope, "I think... Hawk and I will be watching the stars together, Riza."

 

* * *

 

_My Dearest Berthold,_

_We shared a strange relationship, didn't we? Full of companionable silence as the moon and the sky would agree. But I remember you most beautifully when you lost your gaze in the stars, because you seemed so vulnerable, so happy, even peaceful._

_Eight years of knowing you was not well spent on understanding you. But that did not mean I don't adore you. I should have kissed you more when I had the chance. I should have told you I loved you more often. Do you love me, too, Hawk? But perhaps love isn't about speaking the word, but simply about the gesture and recognizing that we receive satisfaction from each other's company._

_Our daughter is the loveliest thing in the world. She is starting to take after me in appearance, but I can tell she inherits your brilliance and passion for knowledge. But as I watch her grow up, I wonder if she will have the chance to meet you. I truly wish she would, because I am certain she will find you wonderful just as I have._

_Lastly, I would like to apologize for not being as strong as I'd like to be. A persistent breathing issue has kept me in the comfort of my bed. I realize by now that my many lingering curiosity about us will never be answered, but please know that I have always loved you with all my heart, even in our most uneventful days. I lost you, that much is true, but I did not lose the memory of you. I am certain we will see each other again. If not in this lifetime, then in the next._

_Forever yours,_

_Tereza_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't know why but I always picture young!Roy as a little brat. The last 3 chapters will be Royai, smutty Royai, and more Royai. Thank you for reading :)


	14. reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you Renaia, A Passing Housewife, csagara, AceOvSpades, WildSilence023, Sailordeedlit, and Capricciosa for the reviews/comment on the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> Warning: Smut

It was only her second time stepping into the State Room under an official summon, but the nooks and crannies of the cold, ceremonious room had once emanated warmth. In her recollection, within the grand fireplace existed a small fold that concealed her ten-year old body just perfectly, an obscure exploit that never failed to secure absolute victory in a game of hide and seek. Not even Roy was aware of the crevice, because that was how she would always win.

To her left was an unused buffet sideboard that contained a secret drawer, cleverly concealed along the lines of intricate carvings. It was propped against the stony pillar in between open windows for the purpose of supplementing the underwhelmingly sparse room. The ancient wooden chest must have existed long before the current monarch ascended, because not only was it grossly mismatched with the rest of the opulent decor, its  _additional_  function was also a mystery to all of the castle dwellers save for her and Roy. If opened, it would reveal more than specks of dust, but old coins and a chess piece (the long missing Queen piece) and her mother's stolen backgammon dice that the mischievous young Riza had hidden there.

But one of her fondest moments vanished in a puff of smoke when an unsolicited twitch in her toe jolted her back to reality. Suddenly, the tiny, childish laughter roaming around the room in her memory was replaced by an unsettling collection of shallow breaths and unnecessary formality.

"And how can I convince you to stay, my dear?" Her voice was gentle and kind, if not slightly sympathetic. News of her father's death had reached the select few in Amestris, the Queen Regent among them.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but there is really nothing you can offer me that will convince me to stay."

"Where will you go?" There was a hint of concern in her tone, which settled clearly in her gaze

Gathering her answer, her voice strained a hint of uncertainty, "Aerugo, perhaps... Somewhere where magic is tolerable..." Granted, the neighboring kingdom had been her decided destination for quite some time, but she couldn't convince even herself by the way her inflection wavered.

"Aerugo is a nice place. Beautiful mountains, lush greenery, and the citizens are very friendly. If you choose to go there, I should think you will be very happy." Her nostalgia trailed off, however, and the regent rose from her chair with an exhausted gait, taking the seat next to Riza. "Speaking of magic, I will be working with Roy to unban the decree. It's only right after Edward and Alphonse's help with last night's  _event..._ "

A tinge of concern flashed in Riza's eyes.

"Do not worry. Nothing will happen to Edward nor Alphonse. They will receive the highest honor for rescuing the Chancellor."

Seeing a sigh of relief on the young woman's appearance, the royal persuaded her further, placing a gentle hand over Riza's. "If you decide to stay here, we will be happy to have you, dear."

Reflexively, her lips curved into a small smile at the monarch's insistence. But there was an unmistakable sadness in her eyes as she vehemently declined, "I am glad to hear that, Your Majesty, but I can't stay… In all honesty, it has been a long day and my mind is not quite with me. I realized just now that it doesn't matter where I go. I don't have my oceanic form anymore, so I'm inclined to think I will be safe anywhere I go."

Squeezing her hand lightly, the raven haired woman eyed her regrettably. "Elizabeth, you know that Roy will be very upset at your decision to leave."

Appreciating the dignified woman's attempt at coaxing, Riza stood her ground, anchoring twitching feet onto the stone floor. "I… have no doubt about that, but I am certain he has other things to keep him occupied. The wedding planning, for one."

"You've spoken to Roy about his engagement...?" The question sounded entirely innocent, but there was a strangely misplaced cadence in her delivery. The inquiry, Riza thought, sounded more like a command than anything.

"Not yet, but there is no need. Lady Vanessa seems a lovely person. I am sure Roy will be very happy."

"If only you would wait until the healer has finished with Roy, I am certain he would like to say his farewell to you. I am sure your grandfather does, too, once he wakes."

Unsought heat burned the back of her skull as she suppressed a thin film from misting her hazel eyes. She lied through her teeth, hoping the woman would buy it, "Thank you, Your Majesty. But I'm not good with goodbyes, so it won't be necessary. Please let Roy and grandfather know of my departure..."

Unexpectedly, the Queen Regent's decorous speech was quickly tossed aside as her gaze darkened with disappointment, "Very well, child... Please do let me know if you need anything at all for your journey…" Without any sorts of warning, Chris Mustang swung her arms around the unsuspecting woman, letting go all propriety as she embraced the Chancellor's granddaughter with uncontrollable emotions inappropriate in magisterial meetings. Even without a child of her own, there was a motherly concern in her demeanor.

As Riza returned her embrace with the same sentiment, she sensed comforting warmth in her stomach that briefly swayed her decision to leave.

Sighing heavily, the royalty's own eyes glistened with tears, setting the atmosphere for the kind of sad goodbyes Riza actively tried to avoid. "When you have finally remembered everything you decided to leave… If you do decide to come back, please remember that you are welcomed here any time, Elizabeth. I am sure I also speak for George and Roy when I said that."

Gulping thickly, she trudged through the stinging idea of leaving her last living relative, her mother's childhood home, and her father's freshly dug grave. Worst of all, she could barely swallow the thought of leaving Roy. "Th-thank you, Your Majesty." But she understood that there was no place for her in his future.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The search in his mother's old chamber proved to be fruitless. The room had been cleaned so perfectly he couldn't even detect a speck of dust floating around in the ray of light.

Next, he checked their secret hiding place. But when the stones grunted in place to reveal the crawl space aged with cobwebs and a trapped, musty smell, he knew she couldn't have been there. His shoulders alone could barely fit through the arcing doorway. A little bit of effort would have been required if Riza were to stick her adult body comfortably in the small tunnel.

The troubled prince could no longer imagine a time after his memory was stolen from him. Nostalgia hung above, raining down unexpected moments that quirked a smile on his face. In one of his deepest recesses, he remembered clearly how much his father loved playing chess. The then reigning monarch would sulk each time Chancellor Grumman bested him. In a faint recollection, he could paint his mother's appearance just before she passed away; the same almond-shaped eyes that echoed his, the easily spotted birthmark on the right side of her face that was always covered by layers of talc powder.

But with his lucidity restored also came a set of melancholic feelings that carried his and Riza's relationship to a whole new understanding. He wasn't entirely prepared for it when he felt the clutching pain of childhood love - the vivid moment when the young girl was forcibly taken away from him, the fleeting sadness that quickly disappeared at the utterance of a spell. These emotions rammed into him like a bull, jabbing his stomach uncomfortably, sending bile up to the tip of his tongue until it coated it sourly.

As much as he preferred the Roy Mustang with clear memory, the clueless Roy Mustang was spared from the intense heartache at the thought of losing her the second time. With the striking image of flaxen hair and hazel eyes to guide his frantic footfalls, the yearning to find the Chancellor's granddaughter had only intensified. He had loved her then, and he knowingly loved her even more now. If he were to lose her again, his life would be similar to the ornate chess board in the king's old chamber, sitting alone and neglected because it was missing the most important piece: the Queen.

The last possible place from his full stack of moments was the castle tower, with thin arrow slits holing the circular stone wall. Young Riza would always tiptoe with a slingshot in hand, narrowing her hawk eyes through the gap and firing at random moving objects below her. She would always hit bull's eye, dead center.

Ascending the roundabout stairs with haste, Roy's brain couldn't keep up with his runaway feet - the unmeasured footsteps reverberated along the spiraling wall from the bottom of the staircase to the top of the watchtower. It wasn't only his brain that couldn't keep up with his feet, however, because his heart was also hanging onto dear life. What if she's not there?

Fortunately, a pile of long, golden hair appeared in the corner of his eyes. The wonderful sight prompted more than a reflexive relief but also delight from his throat. A few hours that had separated them since last night's event felt like weeks, and seeing her again in a tiptoe (even when she didn't need to) twisted a wide grin on his face. If he were to be honest, finding her in one of the many places he fondly remembered her by felt powerfully comforting, and he momentarily contemplated whether she felt the same way.

"Riza..."

Turning around slowly, a pensive look greeted him. But he could see a tiny fragment of joy tug the corner of her mouth when she faced him. "Roy…?"

"I've been searching everywhere for you."

"How did you know to find me here?"

An endearing smile was suspended on his face as imprinted memory spat out of his mouth like a projectile, "Riza, you're not the only one who remembered everything. I know how fond you are of this place, watching the guards below like a hawk, and then shooting them with pebbles. And you would hide and laugh everytime they turned around with that confused look on their faces. Is that the same memory you were thinking about?"

The line in between her lips curled upward at the nostalgia, but Roy could see that the smile never reached her eyes. "And then you would tell me to hit a further target, and I would do so. And then we would laugh some more and gathered more tiny rocks. We were terrible children, weren't we?"

"Not terrible, just… we had a lot of time on our hands. And we were having fun, I suppose."

Nevertheless, her expression turned somber altogether, the crescent moon on her face waning until it disappeared completely. "Roy, why are you here?"

Determination flashed in his eyes, and he quickly crumbled the distance between them until they were merely inches apart. "I came here to find you. Are you feeling alright, Riza? Your father-"

She was unable to hide the scorn in her voice, "What do you care? Shouldn't you be with Lady Vanessa? She's probably missing you already."

Carefully, he reached to touch her hand, a composed lilt voicing his apology, "Riza, I wasn't being fair to you about Vanessa. And for that, I am very,  _very_  sorry."

Intentionally swinging her arm to avoid his, her voice strained a vicious tone as all pent up emotions - anger, irritation, annoyance, jealousy - came tumbling about, "That's right, you weren't being fair! I'm not your whore, Roy! I'm not the woman you can sleep with when the other is far away in another kingdom!"

She had expected him to raise his voice in return, but he remained collected save for the tenacity in his inflection, "Riza, you were  _never_  my whore."

Placing a shaky hand over her chest, her anger bounced off the wall when she shouted at him, "You certainly made me feel that way! And this whole time I thought there was no one else!"

"I'm sorry, Riza. I'm so sorry," he intoned sincerely. In the middle of her screaming fit, Roy unexpectedly wrapped his strong arms around her trembling body, holding it steady and still. "I broke off the engagement at the ball."

Surprised at the revelation, her voice strayed, eyes widening like an owl, "...Wh-what?"

Riza felt as though she melted into him as he tightened his embrace. Their body heat collided, and she was unable to tell clearly whose rapid thrum of the heart belonged to whom. She could hear tenderness on her skin when his lips pressed softly against her ear, sending chills down her spine as he whispered softly, "There's no one else for me but you. It's always been you, ever since we were young. Surely you must know that by now."

Flustered, she peeled away from his enveloping body, her hands lingering above his chest. "A-and Lady Vanessa...?"

"I have already apologized to her. And she understood that it wasn't a fight she could win..."

But her nose scrunched up unattractively as she shoved him with fury, the rest of her features simultaneously yelling at him on her behalf, "Well, fuck you for not telling me about her!"

With her violent push, his foot fell backwards. But his persistent gaze was firm on her.

Shoving him roughly on the shoulders, her voice mirrored the strength, "Fuck you for making me feel like shit this whole time!"

Taking another reflexive step backwards, Roy could sense the presence of the ancient stone structure behind him.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt sternly, sparing no compassion as she unceremoniously wrinkled it in her hands. "Fuck you for-for  _tricking_  me!" One last push, and Riza cornered him against the wall, eyes glistening. "Fuck you for being too kind, fuck you f-for… for making me do things I shouldn't have done!"

Her hazy vision met his unflinching one. She became lost in it for a moment, feeling the rage plucked out of her little by little. Her words frayed when she felt uncertainty, "F-fuck you, Roy... I fucking  _hate_  you..."

But as she held his constant gaze, she saw affection burning in his dark irises, intense and bright - a conflagration. It was flaring with the same intensity when their eyes met in a passing daydream above warm sands. It was blazing with the same brightness when each stumbled upon a familiarity about their looks. Shifting her attention to his smile, she recognized kindness and gentleness and love in it, flaunted for the world to see. Glancing at the pulse on his neck, she could discern the beat of his pounding heart as he pledged his unwavering confession, "I love you, Riza."

Breathtaking silence fell in between them, but it was swiftly removed as she felt his fiery hands graze her skin. It fueled her from head to toe, alighting her heart on fire. Heat spread through her limbs as he cupped her cheeks in his palms, and her doubting mind was granted reprieve when it came upon the devotion in his eyes. At that moment, Riza instinctively knew that there was no one else for her but Roy, and she shuddered in defeat.

Eager to mend her aching lips, she crashed it roughly against his, biting the suppleness raw until it trickled a tinge of red. Her hands found his broad chest, and as they molded their mouths together she could feel his lustful fingers travel to the small of her back, slithering themselves against her slender gown and greedily searching for her warmth.

In the heated moment, he trailed hungry kisses down her neck, sucking on the skin there harshly before venturing back up to explore her mouth with his tongue. As they danced fervently with their lips, Roy twirled her smoothly by the waist, switching their positions in an instant and pinning her lithe frame against the wall, a little ungently but not unkindly.

They both knew exactly what they wanted without a word needed to be said. Sliding anxious fingers down his leather jerkin, she untangled the laces from the gold hooks and pushed the heavy article off of his shoulders without a struggle. One more obstructing garment and it would reveal the lines of well-muscled torso from memory, a tempting sight that would undoubtedly salivate her part down under. A ripping sound tore through the intense atmosphere, and without a hint of concern, Riza hurriedly lifted the article over his head, paying no heed to the long stretch of frayed fabric.

Roy mirrored the same haste after she flung his torn shirt somewhere in the corner of the room. Slipping his restless fingers down the spine of her dress, the impatient man yanked the back laces of her modest gown with no care for the garment. Riza's body jerked side to side from his rough pull as he unfastened the silk knot. And he hurried his fingers when her wanton eyes only chastised him to remove faster. Biting her bottom lip in eagerness, she couldn't help herself but aid Roy in his quest, freeing herself haphazardly until the turquoise garb gathered at her feet.

Light breeze entered through the slits. With her budding nipples hardening from the cold, Roy teased one into his mouth and lapped his saliva around the darkened skin, sucking it vigorously. Riza's fingers curled in his hair as she moaned aloud, a sensuous melody in his ear that precipitated an involuntary twitch in his groin. When she felt his tenting member rub against her, she became much too aware of the wetness pooling on her underwear. Shooting him a telling look, Roy understood immediately and peeled the last piece of clothing from her skin, shedding her decency thoroughly.

They effortlessly comprehended the demanding gaze they threw at each other, because in a matter of seconds, Roy tore the cloth covering his erection so that they were both equally naked. The rigidity of his flesh pressed hard against her weakening leg. He then brushed his lips down to her breastbone and onto her nipple, biting the perky bud without mercy. The bubbling heat in her slicked passage was starting to bother her as it was left untouched. She couldn't suppress the urge to play with the sensitive nub when Roy continued to minister adoration all over her torso. Shoving her middle finger into her mouth, she moistened it with her tongue. It then searched for her engorged clit, and as she rubbed circle around it she couldn't help but let out her favorite expletive, "Oh  _fuck_ …"

Hearing her strained groan from her own ministration, the dark haired man whispered huskily, "Riza, let  _me_..." And he purposely exhaled smolder on her neck that sent a strong impulse down to her wet sex. He gently removed her hand, lingering his fingers over the throbbing entrance. Riza could sense the mischievous smile against her skin as he trailed his wandering mouth across her collarbone. Resting his mouth fully on her lips, he finally killed the suspense when he inserted two curled fingers inside her soaking tunnel.

His fingers easily slid in between her thighs, satin juices coating them generously as its channel swallowed with hunger. Rhythmic panting thrummed in his ears.  _Ahh. Ahh. Ahh_. And when he gazed into her craving eyes with parting lips to match the sensuality, Roy's digits slipped out of her to lather the fluid around his venous shaft. He then hovered his raw tip over her entrance readily, teasingly.

Half disappointed half excited when the enjoyable sensation of his fingers halted abruptly, she bit her bottom lip with desire and groaned his name needlessly, "Roy, Roy… Roy…  _please_ …" He couldn't contain himself as he watched her lustful expression. He freed all reservations by lifting her weightless body, penetrating her aching canal with a sudden thrust.

This time it felt different. Roy wasn't tiptoeing with his arousal like he had been the first time. Gentleness and kindness and consideration were all thrown about the air then, but now Riza could clearly see thirst from the unforgiving thrusts and chaotic grunts as though he were making up for the time they had lost. Coiling her arms around his neck and nipping the tip of his ear playfully, he propped her calves up with urgency so that her sex was steadily anchored to him.

His left arm slid under her bare ass, firm hand squeezing the fleshy mound to keep her in place. His right hand glued onto the rough stone next to her messy head of hair, leaning a part of his weight there so he could steady his position between adrenaline-infused limbs. Roy propped her back against the coarse foundation, and with her legs wrapped around his hips, she could feel his thick girth prodding her insides deeper, stretching her slick passage and filling the rest of her with an unrelenting need.

Riza threw her head back in reflex, rolling his name off of her tongue, moaning breathily and incessantly. Her back arched as much as it could against solid wall, and she sighed in contentment when the upper part of his cock rubbed against her clit persistently. This position was by far the most pleasurable, Riza agreed, because she could feel his bulbous tip ram into her end ferociously. All the while, the movement was ministrating her sensitive swell over and over again. Best yet, she barely had to move, granting him unrestricted control over everything she could offer, letting him have his way with her.

When Riza felt his knees dig into the porous stones behind her, Roy's pace quickened, and Riza could feel her legs turn to jelly when he drove the length of his dick wildly into her. The wet sound from her dripping channel was loud and obnoxious, but it only invited Roy to push and pull faster, deeper and harder.  _Push. Pull. Push. Pull._  Again and again, just a tad more violent each time, bobbing her breasts attractively, eliciting provocative gruffs out of him and a seductive moans out of her.

With one deep, merciless thrust, her arms and legs tightened their clasp around Roy as she felt her insides clenched, jerking uncontrollably. Her twitching ring gripped his throbbing cock firmly, smothering and wetting it with her satiny substance. In her euphoria, she closed her eyes in satisfaction and saw the outline of a paradise. It was vividly drawn in her mind as the image of a cliff-side beach where harmonious waves met sandy shore, with no wind blowing and a fruity scent of red berry trees above them permanent and frozen in time; the unforgettable idyll in which she fleetingly recognized his handsome features for the first time.

In one final plunge, Roy's impending orgasm hit him like a brick, drowning him in bliss as his seeds sprayed into her wonderous cavern. She opened her eyes at the thrust, gasping at the hot sensation; he merely grunted in ecstasy, sated eyes lost in hers. When they both basked in the rapture, they paid no heed to the chilling air around them nor to the sound of marching guards below the tower. Staring fondly into each other's gaze, Roy's expression drew a delightful chuckle while Riza's sketched an adoring smile. Keeping still for a brief moment, they could feel their mixed fluid trickle out of her opening, dripping down onto the dark ground, painting splashes of white dots like a constellation of stars.

In gratifying silence, she gingerly lowered her shaking legs, his toned arms holding her by the waist to secure her. The pulsing inside her pelvis reverberated throughout her body before reaching to meet the pulse on her neck. Her heart attuned to the drumming rhythm as she attempted to steady the beat. Finding her feet on the ground, she let his hands rest on the curve of her hips while Riza caressed his cheek with tenderness.

Genuinely, he smiled as he sensed his body come down for the high. "Have I told you that I love you, Riza?"

The line on her mouth thinned out. "You did."

Feeling agitation from her nonchalant answer, he stared at her with suspense. "And…?"

The endearing giggle leaving her lips was relief in his ears. "Roy, you know I love you. But sometimes I just feel the need to punish you a little, especially after what happened..."

Shielding her nudity from the cold breeze, he embraced her slender frame protectively, finally relaxing the hitched breath he'd been holding. Riza reciprocated his desperate gesture, slipping gentle arms around his back, clutching his skin to reassure. They reveled in the comfort of each other's presence, absorbing warmth and steadying their heartbeats. But momentarily, he released her to collect their scattered clothing on the floor, promptly handing her her gown.

Peculiarly, Roy never rose up from his kneeling position as he blanketed his hands underneath the layer of garments, losing his attention onto the uneven flooring. With a kind smile on her face, Riza extended a helping hand. But rather than taking it to a stand, Roy chose to kiss the back of it adoringly, lingering soft lips over soft skin.

As he propped his elbow on one knee, he tilted his head up so his loving gaze could capture her perfection, seeing confusion flicker in her eyes. Nervously, he stammered, "Riza, all of my doubts disappear when I'm with you… We've lost each other once... and found each other again. Now that you're here, I am  _never_  letting you go. If you decide to leave, know that I will search the ends of the world until I find you all over again…" In between his index finger and thumb Roy revealed a glimmering sapphire stone around an engraved gold band. With a surprised gasp, Riza's racing heart stumbled upon his rich timbre of eternal promise, stilling the beat completely, "I will love you until time ceases to move, Riza Hawkeye. Will you be my Queen?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you for reading!
> 
> P.S. On another note, I had a commission done for the fic by B. Griveros. Little Mermaid is one of my absolute favorite Disney classics; that and Royai = a dream. You can view the art on my [tumblr (ruikosakuragi)](http://ruikosakuragi.tumblr.com).


	15. the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay! I was out of town for my birthday and took a few days off from writing ^^; On another note, I'd like to say thank you to Renaia, ssadropout, Beebop, WildSilence023, Sailordeedlit, Capricciosa, and flourchildwrites (A Passing Housewife) for the comment/reviews/reblog! You made my week so much brighter because of them!
> 
> Warning: Slightly smutty

**Two months later…**

The War Room was never Roy's favorite chamber. There were too many talks of intricate battle plans and the body counts that rose with them in the dingy confinement. The room was also eerily cold year round, icy cold like the crypt below them. And if the temperature itself wasn't enough to turn him away, then the walls lined with weapons of wars crafted to take lives certainly would.

But today's conversation was of a more peaceful tone. Discussions of magic and its benefits roamed around the space, a priority on his agenda ever since the incident with his wife's father. Many ball guests who had witnessed the power of sorcery might have developed an irrational fear of it, but it was his job to convince them otherwise. If all went well, legalization of its use was only a signature away.

The ponytailed sorcerer abruptly rose from his seat. Hours of roundabout conversation lined his face with exasperation. His passionate retort matched his red cape, voice booming in the rectangular space, "I'm telling you I won't do it! I won't put on some lame show for Lord Lazy Bastards!"

Sitting calm and composed, Roy had the markings of a democratic leader as his mind swept over each set of classes across the Kingdom of Amestris. Contrary to popular beliefs, the newly coronated king rarely enjoyed dipping his hands in politics. Divine rights of king aside, he only agreed to accept his ascension because he knew his position could better the lives of its citizens.

The king responded to the young man's insistence, "What do you propose we do then? We are back to the same conversation from this morning. And keep in mind that the noble houses will support our cause if we can show them that magic will provide the best defense for their land. Although now that I have had more time to think, I can't say it will convey the same message for the common people. We need a separate strategy for them."

Impatiently, Edward jabbed at the dark-haired monarch for the hundredth time, "Well, you're the king! They have to listen to you no matter what you say. I don't need to perform anything. You can just tell them that magic is allowed as of today!"

"Your Majesty," a collected voice spoke after a brief silence. Alphonse Elric had the demeanor polarizing from his brother. Wise beyond his years, the younger brother suggested a thoughtful idea, "Rather than showcase how magic can protect the citizens from outsiders, I say we showcase it as alternative medicine. Less things to destroy on our end, and everyone can reap some benefit from it."

The room was mute in contemplation.

After a period of musing Roy replied, "I have thought of that, but we cannot put the healers out of their jobs. Perhaps instead of performing it in public, we can make personal visits to the noble houses and educate them about it. Come up with a plan to incorporate magic while conveying the significant role of a healer within their household, and I think that will persuade them enough."

Sitting on the monarch's right hand side was his trusted chancellor. The man seated himself comfortably on the high back chair, fingers clasped together in a prayer pose. Years of dignitary meetings must have taught him a thing or two about patience. George Grumman flashed an approving grin, raising his circular glasses up the bridge of his nose. "That is a good idea and it may work well in our favor."

Finding Edward leaning back on his chair without saying a word, Alphonse's headache lessened drastically as though a rubber band had been removed from his forehead. While he took his role as the king's magical advisor seriously, there were times when the young man had to remain quiet to calm his hot-headed older brother. Alphonse saw the amicable silence as a chance to press forward, resuming his proposition, "Healing magic is my specialty. I propose that Your Majesty send me to meet with the noble houses as your ambassador."

Roy glanced at Edward, discerning an irritation about his face when his features scrunched up like crumpled paper. "I agree with you, Alphonse. We shall discuss further on logistics and the assignment of your personal guards, but for now let's call it a day, shall we? We've been at this for too long to discuss the rest civilly."

Al nodded. "Understood, Your Majesty."

But Roy couldn't suppress the urge to tease his sulky advisor. A smug smile curled on his lips, and he drew a mocking gaze. "Edward, why can't you be more like your brother and keep a level head?"

Ed merely shot him a death glare, but his angry words lodged in his throat when Al planted a firm grip on his arm. The short-haired sorcerer interrupted fluidly, "Forgive me for interrupting, but speaking of healing, Brother and I came across a very interesting rumor in town. Ed?"

Reflexively, Edward brought himself up from his slouching position. Arms crossed on the thick wooden table, and he spoke with renewed interest, "Right. We overheard some merchants speak about a woman who could perform 'healing with her hands'. That sounds a lot like magic. But of course, they denied it when we asked. I think this woman is worth looking into. If she can heal using magic, she may be able to aid Al in convincing the houses."

Acknowledging his brother with a nod, Alphonse added with confidence, "We are aware there may be more who are like us. But within the last decade, we have not encountered a single person who could perform magic. Or I should say  _willing_  to perform magic in public. I'm inclined to agree with my brother."

Chancellor Grumman eyed the head of the round table curiously, "We may be able to spare some time to look into this. What do you think?"

Roy tapped his finger incessantly. Glancing at the sinking sun and seeing a brightening glow of orange behind the mountains, he finally decided, "Alright. We should ascertain if there's truth to that rumor. But if you don't find anything within a week's time, I say we forget it. In the meantime Alphonse, you should choose your personal guards. We should finalize everything in next month's meeting."

"That's a sound plan. Let's adjourn. I promised my granddaughter I would play her chess this evening," the Chancellor spoke with a toothy smile.

 

* * *

 

A decade and a half of memory loss couldn't keep him away from her. Two watchful men and a thick, stone wall  _definitely_  could do no worse. Entering her chamber through the open window, Roy flashed a double take at the unsuspecting guards below him when the tree he climbed shook dead leaves. Gripping the ledge to the balcony, the stealthy king heaved himself up into the queen's dark room.

Except that he had expected to be greeted with a kiss or even a simple 'hello'. When his temple was met with a two-pronged musket and a threatening "don't move" instead, Roy's breath was momentarily stolen from his lungs. Fear would be the normal reaction from people in his situation, especially ones who had seen her shooting accuracy when handling said weapon. He hadn't believed her when she said it was a newly acquired skill. If anything, it had been an inherent talent brought to the surface. He also swore she had practiced it much more than she let on. But as he stood unmoving with the cold circular metal pressed against his skin, he didn't think he would find his wife even more attractive than she already was.

Roy cleared his throat, speaking cautiously, "And how is my queen doing this fine night?"

"Roy!" Leaning the gun against the wall, Riza blindly felt for his features, reaching his cheeks with calloused palms. "Why did you sneak in through the window?"

"Your grandfather posted additional guards by your door. He thinks I should be staying in my own room tonight because he said I'd be  _too tired_  for tomorrow's important meeting."

An endearing smile could be seen through her teasing lilt, "Oh? Am I that much of a distraction for you?"

"Oh, always," he responded in a playful riposte, "but I get a good night's rest when I'm with you."

The warmth of her hand left him briefly as she stalked the snuffed candle above her nightstand. When she lit the matchstick, the black hole of a space became filled with dim, romantic lighting and Roy's eyes gravitated towards her instantly. Finding the alluring woman in silky nightgown swayed his mind from the day's exhaustion and into something lustful instead. Irritatingly, Roy couldn't understand why a king and a queen had to have separate bedrooms. As far as he was concerned, Riza's smaller, more intimate chamber had been his preferred space for rest, forgoing his own next door to collect dust. On second thought, that wasn't entirely true. It didn't matter where he slept as long as she was there with him.

Riza climbed her bed, beckoning for him to join. "How did the meeting go today?"

Obediently, he crawled to her side and perched himself beside her. "It went well. Alphonse saved the day with his idea. And I think Edward wanted to choke me halfway through."

Her mouth quirked in displeasure. "Did you provoke him?"

"I might have." A smug smile twisted on his lips. "I admit I enjoy getting a reaction from him."

"You need to be more patient with Edward. And  _please_ don't provoke him. If the guards hurt him because of you, which I am certain they will at the rate you are teasing him, Winry will be very upset."

His brows knitted curiously. "Winry?"

A knowing look crossed her features. "Well, she has a little  _something_  for him. I can see it on her face."

"A little something, huh?" Tugging a handsome smirk, Roy's eyes lit up like fireworks when he perceived a chance to slip a tiny flirtation in between. "Just like you have a little  _something_  for me?"

Intentionally, she reciprocated with a brush of fingertips against his parted lips, staring into his eyes with a wanton smile. He could hear the mischief in her cadence as she propositioned, "I do have a little  _something_  for you..." Riza crawled on her knees to sit on his lap, long hair tickling his face as she bent forward to kiss him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips trailed along his jawline with a tease.

Roy gently slid the maroon robe off of her shoulder, ghosting light touches along her bare skin. Nipping on her neck earned him a sensual moan, and his wife couldn't help but throw her head back in pleasure. Once he heard an unsolicited whisper of his name on her tongue, he gingerly pushed her onto the bed so the pillow behind could catch her golden tresses. Keeping a misbehaving smile on his face, he tilted her chin so that her needful gaze lock onto his own, "Well, I have  _a lot_  of something for you… I can show you if you'd like."

Her answer came in the form of a carefree giggle. He responded in the repeat of her name, over and over, breathier each time. The hairs on her arms rose not only from his touches but also from the seductive use of her moniker. And by god, she swore that Roy Mustang had figured out every little weakness in her body. In a moment's notice, the queen lay splayed out on crumpled sheets in an unladylike manner. With the king on top trailing hot kisses down to her collar bones, she was certain her next immoral behavior would be a punishable offense.

When his mouth reached the curve of her breasts, her knees bent and toes curled at the anticipation. Disrobing her torso with impatience, Roy eagerly lapped and sucked on her perky teat, prompting Riza to arch her back to mirror the delight on her lips. Riza instinctively bit her bottom lip when his soft ministration turned ravenous. He bit the hardened bud, and her fingers found themselves tangled in his dark locks. She could feel a sudden draft of cool wind when his hand yanked the black undergarment from her groin. Releasing a deep grunt from the clawing of his scalp, Roy traversed down her breastbone until he reached her belly button before spreading her legs apart little by little.

Upon closer inspection, Roy noticed the rapid pumping of her chest as he gripped her thighs; her heart jumping out of her skin the tighter he clenched. When he pried her legs wide open, her moist sex glistened in the pale candlelight, twitching his erect penis, intensifying his thirst. But he knew how he wanted to please his wife tonight. So he put aside his own needs to satisfy hers, and he drove his fierce tongue in between her slicked lips, tasting her like he had been starved of his cravings.

He knew she was enjoying his ministration by the way her body tensed, her throat faithfully releasing exciting moans in between erratic breathing. Her fingers spoke on her behalf when they gripped his hair in desperation, demanding with urgency, "Roy,  _faster please_ …"

Effortlessly, his mouth found her clit and began to tease it until he could feel more juices coating her soaked opening. His eagerness to please only grew from there, because he knew she was close and he couldn't wait to hear the satisfied grunt sing in his ears. When he heard his name being spoken alluringly, followed by a carnal scream: "Roy…  _Roy…_ Oh my god!" he intensified his ministration and sucked on the nub until her orgasm drove her to the brink of euphoria.

A triumphant smile beamed on his lips, victory dancing in his eyes. He gently rubbed her sweaty forehead. "I hope you find that satisfactory, my dear."

A kind of comfortable warmth settled in her stomach as it often did. This time, however, the wonderful sensation felt exponential, stronger than usual. As Riza came down from her panting, Roy's soft hands cupped her cheek tenderly. Leaning her forehead against his, Riza kissed the corner of his mouth with a content smile, mirroring the curve of his crescent moon. She whispered in muted light, fondness flickering in her eyes, "I understand why grandfather wanted you to sleep on your own tonight. And I hope I didn't scream too loudly... I don't want the guards storming in here."

Giving her an incredulous look, his eyebrows cocked high. "Don't tell me you weren't glad I jumped across the balcony to satisfy you."

She replied with a lighthearted chuckle, her soft caresses circling his cheek, "Oh I am glad, believe me. But you should have been sound asleep instead of talking to me… and  _satisfying_  me as you so nicely put it."

"Speaking of satisfying…" Roy muttered curiously, "Riza, you tasted...  _different_."

This time her eyebrows wrinkled. "Different how?"

Humming to himself, Roy paused to ponder over the proper description. "You tasted sweet... Sweeter than usual."

A knowing gaze gleamed in hazel eyes and her mouth curled in amusement. "Ahh, I wonder if it's because…"

Roy couldn't suppress the curiosity on his features, his body suspended stiffly above her as he searched for respite on her expression. "If it's because…?"

"If it's because I'm pregnant."

He could have sworn his eyes popped out of their sockets as he processed the news. "Riza, you-you're pregnant?!"

At his disbelief, she merely threw him a small smile. "I am. I just found out this morning."

A spectrum of emotions rushed through him. They streamed so fast and so suddenly he wasn't able to mold anything other than a parted mouth, forming words at the tip of his tongue without vocalizing a single sound. If only he could take control of his limbs, he would have lifted her up by now and twirled her in the air. Unfortunately, a twisting grin on his face was the only hint of his excitement.

When he finally repossessed his body, Roy squealed hysterically like a pig rolling in mud, "Oh my god, oh my god, you're pregnant! We're going to be parents?! We're going to be parents..." He planted frantic kisses all over her face, obnoxiously and without mercy. But his wife skillfully clasped his cheeks with both hands, stopping his frenzy by placing an affectionate peck on his lips. Eventually gathering his calm self, Roy rubbed a gentle hand over her stomach, whispering in her ear with a telling grin, "Riza, I love you. And I love our baby."

The same sentiment coursed through her body as she discerned his enthusiasm. For a brief moment, Riza could feel a firepit-like warmth overwhelm her senses. But the wonderful feeling quickly fled and was replaced by a fragment of worry, "Roy, I'm excited too, but…"

Weaving his fingers in her messy strands, his thumb eventually rested on her chin. "But what, Riza?"

"I don't know anything about being a mother... My mother died when I was too young, and you speak about your mother very seldomly."

In an attempt to comfort her, his thumb stroked circles on her cheek. "I'm sure everything will be fine, Riza." But Roy could see that his consolation did little to appease her.

"Tell me about your mother…?"

Leaning his weight on one side, he propped himself up on the mattress with his elbow. Digging up buried memories, Roy began his tale with the first recollection of her, "My mother died when I was three or four. You were just born around that time, so you wouldn't have remembered her. Father didn't mention much of that day. He only informed us that she passed away... I'm not sure if it was from an illness or a different cause. I don't remember attending her wake, but from what I could gather Father buried her only hours after he found her…" Contemplatively, he added, "I remember asking about it when I was older. All my father said was: the longer he waited to bury her, the longer he would have to mourn."

"Do you remember what she looked like?"

"Well, I see images of her face every now and then. We shared the same eyes and hair color. Hers was slightly lighter than mine. In all honesty, I don't recall what kind of a person she was other than from stories. She was a wonderful person, wise beyond her years and the most beautiful woman my father ever laid his eyes on. She was also revolutionary in her thinking compared to most women during her time."

With peaked interest in tow, Riza mimicked his leaning form before delving into the image of the woman. She could picture a refined lady with dark hair and dark eyes matching his. As his mother came alive in her imagination, she exuded elegance and charm and confidence. The beautiful gowns she wore probably only served to enhance her prominent features. Putting together the late king's charismatic appearance from memory and coupling it with the description of Roy's mother, Riza could envision an insightful queen ruling with kindness and integrity.

Riza looked on wistfully, taking his hand into hers. "I'm sorry, Roy. I wish you had more time with her."

He squeezed her hand in return. "We may not know our mothers all too well, but you're an amazing person, Riza. I'm sure you will make an amazing mother."

Smiling in solace, she replied without a breath of doubt, "And you will make a great father, Roy."

The moment all concerns left the room, the thrill of a baby seeped back into the atmosphere. The air felt several degrees warmer, and Roy swore the temperature had sunk into his pores, flaring him up like a bonfire. In a matter of seconds, he thought the accumulation of heat would send him flying to the ceiling like a hot air balloon. The sensation produced too much energy for the comfort of his body.

He attempted to shake off the spark by tumbling out of bed like a gymnast, jumping over a small bench to pull the heavy drapes over the open window. When he retreated back onto the bed, his fingertips retained the numbing sensation of heat. Chucking the strange feeling aside, Roy expressed his excitement once again, "Riza, you have no idea how ready I am to meet our child! I feel all this heat around me… I feel as though I can set things on fire just by looking!" As he extended his hands in exhilaration, the small tome atop Riza's nightstand caught on fire, eliciting surprised gasps when they saw flame lick the pages.

Quickly snatching a pitcher of water atop his bedside table, Roy poured the content over the blazing book, extinguishing the fire with a hiss. In an instance, the scent of charred paper permeated the air, accompanied by the abrupt interruption of darkness. Everything was eerily quiet, especially so when the smell of ashes hit their noses like a silent spell.

Riza was the first to speak, inquiring in a tone full of surprise, "Did the candle topple over?"

Roy replied reluctantly, "I'm not sure… I wasn't paying attention to the candle."

But having lived with her sorcerer father had taught her a thing or two. Unlike Roy, she couldn't swiftly dismiss the idea of magic, particularly because she was able to attune to the sensation like second skin. However miniscule the accident had been, there was something familiar about the way it occured. With less doubt this time, Riza asserted, "Roy, that was magic."

Disbelief was clear in his tone, "Did you cast a spell by accident?"

Riza pressed on, "I am quite certain that wasn't me."

"But every mermaid is capable of magic, isn't that right?"

Her brows furrowed with uncertainty as she examined his question mutely.

Roy added with confidence, "Well I'm certainly  _not_  capable of performing magic."

She agreed reluctantly, "I suppose you're right…"

Chuckling, Roy reassured, "Perhaps the candle did topple over."

Considering the exhaustive day, she dusted off the incident as a trick of the mind. Her lips twisted into a smile as she convinced herself, "It must be. But now I am certain you should have stayed in your own room tonight. You're still much too excited to be able to sleep."

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Roy kindly took her hand and blanketed it with his in consolation. "Worry not, my dear. Your grandfather would collect me first thing tomorrow morning. That man always wakes on time."

She chuckled, lowering her body on the bed, "Then let's get some rest, my King."

Roy whispered softly, "Goodnight, my Queen." Resting his head on the pillow, his hands found the outline of her shoulders. Carefully, he pulled Riza beside him, nuzzling her head against his chest. When his protective arms wrapped around her slender torso, he willed himself to sleep, hopefully dreaming of his wife and their little bundle of joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The next chapter will be the last one.. Thank you for reading! Please review/comment because those give me life :)


	16. the truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And this is a wrap, folks! What started out as a drabble turned into a 4-month journey lol. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, commented, reblogged, favorited, and followed this story. Kudo to notreallyyourordinaryhater for suggesting the name Isabella. Enjoy this epilogue!

**Three Years Later…**

The little cottage in which Berthold stayed as a child was rummaged shortly after the birth of Isabella Mustang. Besides the cottage, Tereza Hawkeye's immaculate gravestone remained to accompany. As though welcoming the king and queen's daughter into the world, Blue Moon wisteria (which stayed dormant until late spring) bloomed as early as the end of winter.

It was strange, really, how a simple letter had brought about this idea. The search within the cottage wasn't for the purpose of finding remnants of her father's sorcery, even if they did find the thick, heavy book he always lugged around in his youth. It was to find traces of motherly love among the tiny space.

Tereza 's last words had been imbued with heartbreaks. The setting in which it was read had been even more so. But in the midst of Berthold's revenge and grief and sorrow, there once existed a caring mother who poured her heart out for her child. When her mother's diary was discovered underneath the creaky floorboards, Riza was tearfully overjoyed.

In it, Tereza wrote in painstaking detail about Riza's birth. How she had been born one week later than the midwife's prediction, how as a baby she had cried nonstop for the first two hours, and how she had finally stopped crying when the Queen held her. At the top of the page, Tereza would always write "To Berthold", providing him with pages and pages of Child Rearing 101 should he ever meet his daughter.

Her journal had also helped Riza with Isabella. Funnily enough, there was an entry during Riza's second birthday that stated, "Riza enjoyed being thrown around in the air. If she cried, throw her in the air." Following in her mother's footsteps, Riza would ask Roy to throw Isabella in the air when she cried. Peculiarly, it didn't stop baby Isabella from crying.

Riza must have read Tereza's diary over a hundred times. Some useful and important notes were carefully memorized. This included the last entry in her journal. On the vellum paper, her mother wrote that if Berthold should ever return to see his family again, she would want to celebrate the day with a picnic by the cottage. Specifically, Tereza wanted a thick slab of meat in between barley bread so Berthold could eat his favorite meal as a child.

Today was Roy's birthday. It was also the day magic would be forever integrated into society. Being the kind man that he was, the king suggested a picnic by Tereza's graveyard as to fulfill her last wish and to celebrate three years of hard work unbanning the decree. Save for Tereza and Berthold, Tereza's family was happy and healthy: Riza, Roy, and her granddaughter Isabella.

Early October was a bit chilly for a picnic, but with the aid of wool blankets and fur coats, the three of them braced the cold like brave soldiers. The stream where Berthold used to swim was a good distance away to keep toddler Isabella safe, but the sound of rushing water hitting against rocks was loud enough to set the setting for a tranquil outing.

"It's called a sandwich. People in court don't normally eat it since it's consumed mostly by the common folks. But my father apparently had taken a liking to the food. Even if I never saw him eat it when I lived with him," Riza explained with an amused smile.

"It looks very… simple," Roy poked at the bread before taking a reluctant bite. He propped himself up to a sitting position, legs folded comfortably below him. At the first lettuce crunch, his eyes lit up, matching the expression he wore when eating a freshly baked boar pie. "What did you put in here? This is delicious." Pinching a small bite for Isabella, Roy hovered the food over the child's mouth. When she ignored it for the wooden horse in her hand instead, Roy shoved the piece into his mouth. "I don't think she's hungry."

Riza rolled her eyes and chuckled. Pinching another small bite, she called Isabella's name firmly. Their daughter looked up. The moment the child saw the food in her hand, she took a mouthful of the small sandwich and Riza's fingers along with it. "That's how you do it, Roy."

Patting his daughter's head affectionately, Roy attempted Riza's tried and true method. He nipped a bite and called her name, "Isabella." And his face sparkled like fireworks when his daughter tilted her head up at him. Isabella endearingly nibbled on the food in his hand.

Terrible Twos. Their two-year old daughter had been everything Tereza had described and more. Isabella stuffed things in her mouth. Coins and dice were usually her favorite. When Riza was away for her queenly duty (she couldn't sit idle and pretty, preferring to help Roy with his goals when she could), Winry would report back with a new list of items to hide from the child. Her daughter whined and cried and begged when it was bedtime. Often time asking for "Loy", as the little one called her father. Roy would then read her a storybook until Isabella had drool dripping out of her mouth.

Had Riza been jealous of her daughter's preference for her father? No, it was quite the opposite. She was absolutely ecstatic. While it was uncommonly found in court life, Riza and Roy decided to take child rearing into their own hands. It wasn't about trust. It was about being present in the child's life - something Riza had been deprived of early on, something Roy wished he had more of before his mother passed away.

Seeing a full head of dark hair on Isabella - the color matching Roy's to a tee, never failed to make his heart leap out of his chest. Seeing Riza's rich hazel eyes on their daughter prompted Roy to carve a permanent grin across his lips. He was sure he also spoke for Riza when he said that; only the best for their daughter. So when Isabella ceased to find amusement with the wooden horse in her hand, Roy and Riza decided to take her to the riverbed.

Roy carried Isabella in one arm, his other hand held out for his wife. The trek to the riverbed was peaceful. The smell of earth and pines overpowers their senses. Joined by the autumn breeze, the fleeting day took Riza back to the reading room by the fireplace on a Christmas morning. But upon reaching the stream of water, the three of them encountered something unexpected.

A large, stray wolf was drinking with unquenchable thirst. Its size was twice Isabella's. The grey fur was dirty and matted with more bones than meat beneath its skin. At the rustling of leaves below their feet, the wolf turned around. Its teeth bared, muzzle wrinkling in anger. There was hunger in its piercing eyes. The tail was stiffly held, ready to pounce at its prey's first movement.

Handing the child over to Riza slowly and quietly, Roy took small, careful steps and shielded his family from the vicious animal. Roy tried his hardest to suppress a cough from his drying throat. Riza attempted to gain control of her feet in preparation for an escape. But Isabella was too young to comprehend the dangerous situation. When the wolf snarled in warning, the child looked up, innocently pointing towards the beast, "Wad dat?"

The sound of pounding heart overcame Roy's hearing. He felt nothing but fear for his family when the wolf lunged forward. In an instant, Roy yelled at his wife in a hurry, "Run, Riza!"

But before any shuffling of feet could take place, the wolf yipped in pain and dropped onto the ground with wide eyes. It was still alive, Roy could see it breathing, but the way it lay stiff and unmoving painted confusion on his features.

"Riza… did you see what happened?" asked Roy in a whisper.

Her erratic breathing was visible on her chest. Cradling Isabella's head in the crook of her neck, Riza could hear her daughter's fearful whimper when she said "mama". Riza shushed her in comfort, choking on her words before stammering less than a full answer to her husband, "I-I'm not sure… It was… But I sensed the-"

In the height of the confusion, a strange woman emerged from the woods. Her hair was as dark as the ravens cawing above them. Her eyes were a black void and full of mystery. Roy couldn't tell her age from her smudged appearance. Her arms and face were dirt-blackened, completely covered in filth - it was so filthy the woman looked like she rose from the grave with soil glued to her body. But there was familiarity about her features.

Roy shouted at the woman with his hand still splayed in front of Riza, "Who are you?!"

Unlike her muddy image, the voice escaping her throat was soothing and warm like a blanket on a cold, winter night, "I have missed you, Roy. And you must be Riza. You were just a child then, but I remember noting the color of your hair to Tereza. I told her it was the exact shade to hers."

Riza's face wrinkled in shock. There was nothing in her memory that could point her to the identity of the woman. She tightened a protective embrace around Isabella. Instinctively, Riza shouted full of demand, "T-tell us who you are! How do you know my mother?!"

Mutely, the stranger stood unflinching. The woman then drifted a fond gaze onto the child in Riza's arm. She ignored their desperate plea for her name. Instead, when she finally found her voice, the woman spoke with affection, "And you must be Isabella. You have your father's hair and your mother's eyes. It's a beautiful combination."

When Roy regained control of his body, he silently took a step forward little by little until he could get a better study of the woman. Riza trailed behind him in step with Isabella in tow. With only a full body-length apart, the woman's familiarity is starting to take shape. Her small nose on her small, round face. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes against fair complexion matching the shade of a pale dandelion. Roy stopped in his track with slack-jaw hanging above beatless heart when his perusing eyes fell upon the right side of her face. He noticed a large birthmark in the shape of a butterfly. It was more prominent and beautiful than the one from his foggy memory.

Sensing her husband's sudden rigidity, Riza whispered with concern, "...Roy?"

But what disturbed the taut silence was the stranger's collected steps. She moved closer until she was only an arm-length's away. Reaching a gentle hand towards Roy, she smiled delightfully. Then, with a kind expression, she said, "I'm your mother, Roy. And I'm glad you are finally able to get rid of that abomination of a law. I had to escape. And I remained in my oceanic form until the King instructed otherwise."

Roy's expression mellowed, his stiff body along with it. He was uncertain on how to feel when a brimful of emotions struck him like lightning. He was angry, of course, at both his father and his mother. But a tiny part of him believed everything had been done for a reason. Time, and some hard work on his part to rid Amestris of the ridiculous ancient law, had returned his mother to him. He had many questions for her and he was ready to strip them off of her. But that was a story for another time.

The look in her eyes showed a tinge of shock when Roy hovered a shaky hand over hers. But seeing his mother alive, standing in front of him full of affection, was more than anything he could hope for. He was first and foremost happy to see her again. With a delightful smile and a slightly trembling voice, Roy whispered, both arms extended towards her in an embrace, "Welcome back, mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this series. As always, I would greatly appreciate any comments you may have.
> 
> P.S. I intended to leave the end on a happy note, not a mysterious note (eventhough it came out more mysterious than happy at first). So I added just a tiny bit more to conclude the story properly and how it's intended to be.
> 
> P.P.S. If you're looking for another Royai story, I started writing **[Atlas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16548011)**. Here's a little summary:
> 
> Historical/Espionage AU. After six years apart, intelligence agent Roy Mustang attempts to rebuild his relationship with a former partner. But when past and present intertwine, their reunion triggers one of life's most difficult decisions: duty or family. Royai. Parental!Riza/Parental!Roy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments/kudos are much appreciated :) Or if you'd like to shoot me a DM with feedback/ideas/anything at all, feel free to do so on my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ruikosakuragi).


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